


Corona Reborn

by Untherius



Series: Co-Sovereignty [7]
Category: Emberverse - S. M. Stirling, Howl Series - Diana Wynne Jones, Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides (2011), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Celtic Woman, Coup d'état, F/M, Gen, Mermaids, New Beginnings, RPF, flight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:44:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Untherius/pseuds/Untherius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary sits in her bathtub trying to take it all in.  Everyone at Larsdalen, both those living there and those involved in the recent battle, are gathered for something called "court."  Mary's not sure what that is, but it all seems so exciting!  A foreign dignitary makes a dramatic entrance, one nobody knows how to handle.  When court finally starts, two of the visitors, named Queen Rapunzel and King Eugene, publicly pronounce judgement against the Armingers by right of war.<br/>The mental whiplash continues when the Coronans call for a meeting during which they lay out their dreams and plans for the future, Eugene tells the story of how he and his planned their military operation against Arminger, and Juniper makes a discovery about herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Management

**Author's Note:**

> The song Lonyali sings is to the tune of "Touch the Sky" (from "Brave").

Larsdalen  
March 11, CY 9, 2021 AD

Sigh. Here I sit in this bath tub. Okay, fine, maybe it's more like reclining. I can lean on my arms on the rim. I'm glad the water supports some of my weight because my arms would sure get tired. I'm not used to being so heavy!

Now and again, I raise myself up to look around some more, making sure my yellow braids dangle over my chest. I must have spent at least twenty minutes arguing with Mom about clothes. She insisted that I at least wear a pre-Change tank-top. But no self-respecting mermaid would deign to wear clothes and that's final.

One of the Coronans--apparently the people who flattened Portland, or so I've been told--arrived to see what was taking so long. The man had proposed the hair solution, citing that Queen Syrena did exactly that and it had worked quite well for centuries. Mom relented, conditional on a forthcoming stern talk with me. I'm not looking forward to it.

“Remind me again why we're doing this,” Dad says.

“Because you were afraid to say no?” says Mom.

“I guess.”

I flip over and swirl the water with my fin, watching the way it responds to my wishes, exactly the way my legs did. For all I know, I still have legs bound together and encased within my tail. I look pensively at my tail, then curl it up toward her until my fin hangs over her head. Well, that answers _that_ question...legs definitely do _not_ bend like that. It's fascinating, really.

“Honey,” says Mom, “please don't...fidget.”

I return my tail to the water. “But I'm bored, mama.”

“I know, but we need to...make a good impression on them.”

“We need to not get them mad at us, you mean.”

“Well...that's how your father puts it.”

I consider that for a moment. “Oh, I don't think they'll get mad. Not unless we call them names or somethin'.”

“Still, I need you and your sister to be on your best behavior.”

“Yes, mama.” Mom seems to be trying not to look at my tail. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I want my family to accept what happened to me and treat me as Mary the person, rather than Mary the mermaid. Besides, everyone _else_ seems to be trying to get a look at my tail. At least, they had all the way from the pond to near Zena Road. It was making me a little self-conscious.

Now all those people have plenty of other things to ogle. There are the...what are they called...oh, yeah, lothnellir. I've never seen one before, and apparently neither has anyone else. They're strange and they seem to act sorta like people, which is even more strange. Stranger still were are other odd-looking animals that I guess arrived with the healers from...Ingary, I think it was. I've never heard of Ingary either, but Dad and others have told me stories about how all the countries of the world fell apart after the Change and how new ones grew up in their places. So maybe Ingary is one of those.

The only way I know about any of that was by eavesdropping. Mom always says it's bad manners, but how else am I supposed to find out what's happening if Mom and Dad are so busy running around like headless chickens? People sure talk a lot when they think no one important is listening...especially those MacKenzies. It's not that I dislike the MacKenzies. They're mostly nice people, though a little strange about some things. Even my half-brother is one. I don't know how I know about Rudi, but I somehow know. I also have a feeling I'll get in trouble if I say anything about that, so I keep it to myself.

“Is it much longer, Papa Smurf?” grumbles Uncle Eric.

What's a Smurf?

“I don't know,” says Dad. “Want me to go find out?”

“I thought they were going to tell us.”

“Well...” He sounds nervous. “...it's just that we have things to do and I'd really like to get this show on the road.”

“Get it over, you mean,” says Mom.

“Yeah, that too.”

“Oh, good,” says a woman whose voice I don't recognize, “they're here.”

I sense an abrupt rise in agitation from the crowd and I raise myself up on my arms to see what it is.

“ _NAZGUL!!!_ ” someone screams.

Huh. Usually people make that joke about the Portland gliders that sometimes appear in the sky. Dad's _really_ tired of that joke and has been for years. I still think it's funny. But I'm eight, so I still find most things funny, even things I'm pretty sure shouldn't be.

There's something in that voice that makes me nervous. Usually there's some worry that Portland's spying on us again. Normally, gliders simply make people uneasy. Now I can sense genuine fear...no, it's terror...sheer, unadulterated, abject terror.

I crane my neck, trying to see. “What is it, papa?” I ask.

“Dragons,” he says. Even HE sounds nervous.

“Really?” That's so exciting!

“There's no such thing as a dragon,” says Mom.

“As of yesterday, there wasn't any such thing as a mermaid either,” says Dad.

“Well,” says Uncle Eric, “they look like dragons to me.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” says Aunt Astrid, “dragons have front legs. Those things don't. They have to be something else.”

“Then _you_ tell _me_ what they are,” says Eric.

“And I _don't_ believe we're having this conversation,” says Dad.

“Bloody hell!” yells a man who sounds like Sam Alyward, “ Archers!”

“ _hold_!” bellows another who I don't recognize.

“What?”

“Firing upon the Queen of Ingary would be a monumentally bad idea!” says the man. Whoever he is, he sounds like he has lots of authority.

“Bloody hell,” says Sam. “Stand down...but stay ready.”

I watch, following everyone's gaze. I can't see much, being in this tub, but I'm quite sure it wouldn't helped much to still have legs. There are still too many people. It takes a few moments to locate the source of the alarm.

I spot several animals approaching from the south. I'm still not sure how to judge distances and such, but Dad's making commentary...using some of what I figure is more of that pre-Change stuff...and I'll have to trust him on it. About a mile away and approaching fast—somewhere between thirty and forty miles per hour--several large animals glide some five hundred feet above the valley floor in a V-shaped formation. I count...one...two...three.....nine of them. At least that's the right number for them to be Nazgul.

Each has a person riding at the base of its neck just in front of the wings. Rather than dragons, I think they look more like herons. They have long necks and what look like large, heron-like beaks, but their wings are pointed and they have tails. They have to be enormous, though, maybe even as big as one of those Cessna things Dad showed me that one time. I don't know of any bird nearly that big and from the reactions of those around me, apparently no one else does either.

They close the space quickly, descending as they come, and reform into a single-file line. We all watch like dogs at a horse race as the creatures whoosh over us.

“Holy shit!” Dad exclaims. I really wish he'd stop using language like that. “Those things are bigger than a goddam Cessna six-eighty!”

The lead creature tips sideways, veering sharply off to the right, flapping its huge wings. The others follow and they quickly loop around the valley, descending even more. They reform again, this time lining up wingtip-to-wingtip, as they prepare for another pass.

The birds...if they really _are_ birds...whoosh over everyone's heads again, so close I feel like I could reach up and touch one. Everyone else ducks and some throw themselves onto the ground amid a variety of curses and cries of alarm. I watch in fascination as all nine of them abruptly tip upward in perfect unison, stalling their momentum. They're so beautiful! I can hear their huge wings make loud whooshing sounds and then they all drop out of sight. They kind of land like herons, though.

A few minutes later, someone calls for the procession to begin.

* * *

Lonyali Asjustina, Queen of Ingary, gazed down from her high vantage point. She loved flying and had dreamed of doing it for as long as she could remember. She wasn't a bird herself, of course, nor was she even remotely powerful enough to fly under her own power. She did, however, possess a modest amount of empathic ability. It had been that ability--and the pressing necessities imposed upon their society when Earth had Shifted--which had ultimately persuaded her advisors to allow her to provisionally join the Ingarian Air Force at the tender age of fourteen.

That move had been admittedly risky and the Regent had been adamantly against it. She was one of only a few members—and the one with the highest precedence--of any of the royal houses of all the kingdoms of Ingary to survive the destruction of her home-world. It had paid off, however, and she had emerged as though forged of ingarium itself.

She was only supposed to be in for one year, but one had turned into nine. Through a great deal of blood, sweat, tears, and sheer obstinacy, she'd climbed the ranks and was currently one of the top-ten ranking officers. While her journey had not been an easy one, it had made her much stronger as a person. In fact, Master Suliman had called her an Ingarian Amelia Earhart. He'd had to explain the reference, of course, but Lonyali was quite gratified to be compared to such a strong woman and an aviatrix no less.

It had widely been whispered—and she suspected for very good reason—that her royal status would have otherwise made her into a spoiled brat. They were probably right. Instead, she had developed personal, mental, and physical discipline and a variety of highly useful skills. She shuddered to think of what sort of mewling quim she would have been otherwise. In short, she'd become a warrior-queen and had been personally involved in nearly every battle against the Haida and others who'd assaulted the shores of New Ingary since the Shifting of Earth.

Still, it wasn't easy balancing her military duties with those demanded of her as Queen. She'd gone to a great deal of effort over the last couple of years to ensure that the two overlapped as often as possible. Her current mission was one of those.

She looked to the left and right, admiring the expanses of wing membrane on either side and then the strong neck in front of her. The animal she rode, which her people called a throndrakal, was unusual even for its kind. The throndrakali were the result of many centuries of selective breeding. The first generation had been a cross between the largest of the Earth species and a somewhat smaller Ingarian one. The result had displayed an astonishing amount of hybrid vigor. In fact, the eggs had been so large, they'd had to be surgically delivered. Many rounds of crossing and back-crossing had resulted in the animals like one between her legs.

Hers was a female, a magnificent animal whom Lonyali had named Fayon-asstruma, often simply called “Fay.” It was a fitting name, both physically and temperamentally. Most throndrakali were grey-white on the underside and a sort of charcoal grey on their dorsal sides. Fay, however, was an opalescent ice-blue-white underneath, and a rich, dark, steel-blue-green above, with a midnight-black, slightly blue-ish beak, and bearing bright orange, flame-like markings on her crest. She was gorgeous--unfortunately, she was also an unholy terror and some said they deserved each other. It was little wonder they'd been together since Fay's sixth month.

Lonyali had originally been assigned to the dirigible fleet, such as it was. She'd taken one look at Fay, however, and had fallen in love. Deliberation among her military superiors had been intense, but brief. Their decision to transfer her had been sealed upon watching her interact with Fay. Never before had anyone seen a pilot bond so rapidly with a throndrakal and the two of them had done so with such alacrity that there had really been but one choice. She had, of course, been issued official reprimands for unauthorized entry into a restricted area, unauthorized requisitioning of Air Force fauna, and reckless endangerment of her own Royal hide. It had happened within her first month in the Force, had nearly caused her expulsion and would have set a record for the fastest dishonorable discharge in history. It had also been the very last time she'd whined...ever...and after that, things had changed dramatically.

Lonyali had been the only one who'd been able to go anywhere near Fay, even as a hatchling. Most who'd tried had lived to regret it and a few careless individuals had been killed. Lonyali herself bore numerous scars from laceration, puncture, and burn wounds inflicted by her animal. While she'd allowed healers to relieve her of the most obvious of those—mainly the ones on her face, save for a few that she felt made a statement about her toughness, and those that threatened to impact her mobility and flexibility--she insisted on wearing the others as badges of honor. It was generally acknowledged that it was only her empathic abilities that made working with Fay possible at all. They also made it possible for her to fly Fay without reins, which was just as well, since the animal barely tolerated the ultralight saddlery needed for riding. Lonyali could have flown bare-back, but take-off and landing were _very_ dicey affairs, to say nothing of air-based combat.

Lonyali brought her mind back to the present. While there were often long hours during which she could afford to let her mind wander, it seldom paid to let it wander too far. Situational awareness was always important. While Fay usually obeyed well, she was still her own animal and was still slightly prone to following random and unpredictable whims. She watched the trees flow below them. They could have cruised lower, but not only did the added altitude give better vantage, but one never knew when the air pressure might suddenly drop, resulting in a messy crash. She'd only made that mistake once and that during a flight over the mountains east of the Fraser River Valley and it had been Fay's instincts that had saved them. Furthermore, all mission briefings indicated that the humans were likely to fire upon them out of sheer alarm, since none of them had ever seen a throndrakal before, and higher altitude would keep them safely out of crossbow and dart-thrower range.

She checked her wingmen...aye, right where they should be and none of them were trying to signal her. They rotated positions again to take advantage of the draft line created by the same V-formation employed by migrating birds.

Lonyali smiled behind the kerchief she wore over her nose and mouth and began to sing the anthem of the Ingarian Air Force...

Kan nafarhan fris tilirin  
Wa nasielin iga wa gati  
Hailanumi hidruar tinshan wa tinliwan  
Galamim alm suileha  
Mikondaral, mifolaral  
Farhan shaspar wa sielin kontash  
Mifolaral  
Farhan shaspar wa sielin kontash

Fenlak arbani nath sushuftaki teneb  
Wa nahailanumi dath wa yolam  
Nafeshdon thrum suilahanemi titenith  
Aselai lithianenem damlarin  
Sutapu shak miwalisal  
Sulurisin mishel tenimal  
Mielere maitar tel nebun strumar  
Mielere lowathar tel suski asthrondrakal  
Mikondaral, mifolaral  
Farhan shaspar wa sielin kontash  
Mifolaral  
Farhan shaspar wa sielin kontash

That song always lifted Lonyali's spirits. She was already an optimist, and she was already doing her favorite activity. Well, she thought, _second_ -favorite activity. Being unmarried _and_ Queen _and_ a high-ranking officer, she wasn't really supposed to know about her favorite one.

There were no indications anyone had found out about her indiscretion in that area. It was no longer a present concern, as her lover had died two winters ago. His dismembered remains had been found during the spring thaw. Forensic evidence clearly showed his body had been torn apart by wolves and that it had happened post-mortem, but cause-of-death could not be determined and the case had been dropped. She'd had to steadfastly hide all signs of her sorrow, beyond those tears shed for a fellow Ingarian, and do her true grieving in private. She'd arranged a few solo flights under guise of training flights, or patrol, neither of which had wingman requirements. She'd landed in certain clearings she knew and had performed her own funeral rites, those generally reserved for a spouse of the deceased. After pouring out her grief upon the ground, she'd left it all behind her in true Ingarian fashion.

Fay sensed her companion's lifted mood and let out a high skee, a crisp, bell-clear call that always reminded Lonyali of the very best elements of eagle and raven, plus something not entirely Terran, with a subtle amount of warble. She loved it.

Soon their destination came into sight. She watched it approach. There was suddenly a great deal of commotion on the ground, visible even from that distance. She expected that. She pressed her feet lightly to the top of Fay's neck, signaling her to descend, letting up when they'd reached half their previous altitude. She didn't need to signal her wingmen to reform into a line behind her, as it was standard procedure when evaluating potential landing sites in unknown territory.

She carefully examined the large assembly of humans as she hurtled by overhead. They were still in a state of agitation. She couldn't hear them, of course. Her head-covering muffled most noise and the wind in her ears would have drowned out the rest. She spotted a good landing place, which looked to be the one that had been set aside just for them as per the arrangements she'd made with the King of Corona.

She pressed on the left side of Fay's neck, giving her the command to bank to the right, her wingmen right behind her and following the standard three lengths. She felt the changes in weight and motion as Fay abruptly changed direction, the simultaneous tipping from her own body's extreme angle coupled with the pressure of centrifugal force pressing her into the saddle and against Fay, and the way the animal's muscles flexed and her body bobbed as she flapped her huge wings. It was one of the things about flying in which she reveled. She kept her attention split between the ground below her to starboard and her intended flightpath as she and Fay looped around the perimeter of the field. She slowed Fay a little to allow her wingmen to fall into the wingtip landing formation.

Strictly speaking, either she should have remained in the air while two of her wingmen landed first to secure the site, or she and two others should have landed while the remaining pilots circled in a covering formation. However, they'd been in the air for a few hours already and the animals could use some rest after flying without thermal updrafts all day, not to mention that she and her wingmen could use a stretch. They weren't in hostile territory anyway. It was unknown to be sure, but not hostile. Besides, she seriously doubted the humans would have the guts, or be crazy enough, to try anything truly stupid. Furthermore, one never knew when the early spring weather might change. It was sunny now, which was rare for early March in the Northwest, but that could change rapidly and she wanted to make their return trip before the rain returned and grew heavy enough to impair flight.

Together, they slowed even more as they again glided over the humans on their final approach. Were they _still_ agitated? Humans really _could_ be quite paranoid. Not that her own people weren't, but hers at least had the excuse of having been nearly wiped out of existence. She'd heard that the humans said much the same thing about the aftermath of what they called “The Change,” but in her opinion, they'd brought an awful lot of that upon themselves and she didn't think they had much room to talk about change anyway. In any event, she strongly felt that, at best, they were exaggerating their case.

She gaged the distance to their landing site, then reached back and squeezed with her hands on the leading edges of Fay's wings, giving her the command to begin the landing cycle. Her wings rose, passing above Lonyali's peripheral vision and giving her a complete view of the approaching ground. Next came the tricky part and early pilots had been severely injured or killed before someone had the bright idea to install pilot harnesses on the saddlery.

Fay abruptly tilted her body upward to near-vertical, her airspeed stalling. She beat her huge wings several times, coming quickly to a halt, air spilling around their edges and the momentum forcing Lonyali's face into her animal's folerili, the feather-like plumage that covered Fay's body. Then she felt a light jolt as Fay's rear legs touched the ground, then another lurch as she pitched forward to catch herself gracefully on the mid-span fingers of the forearms that formed her now-folded wings.

Lonyali undid her own harness even before Fay had settled onto the ground, and leaped off. She pulled the kerchief away from her own nose and mouth, letting it settle about her neck, and felt the fresh air fill her nose, mouth, and lungs. She unfastened her goggles and reached up to slip them into a padded pouch attached to the saddle and next to her short, recurve bow and a fully-stocked quiver.

Fay turned her head around and looked inquisitively at Lonyali, even though her actions were all a part of every flight operation. Lonyali smiled and stroked Fay's neck a few times, admiring the folerili that covered her body while the animal cooed and purred contentedly, before turning to briskly walk toward the knot of humans gawking at them, giving a nod of acknowledgement to the lothnellir who'd arranged themselves in a perimeter around the throndrakali, two of her wingmen falling in beside her as escorts.

* * *

“People of the Willamette!” calls a voice I don't know. “Michael Havel the Bear Lord, his wife the Lady Signe, their daughters Mary and Ritva, their son Mike Junior!” 

“Finally,” Dad mutters and we begin moving. Eight of the Bearkiller A-listers, including Uncle Eric, carry my bathtub. 

“Lord Bear! Lord Bear! Lord Bear!” chants a chorus of voices. I never tire of hearing that. It makes me proud of Dad, even though it makes him squirm, which is another thing I think is funny. 

In short order, we reach a motley collection of chairs. Dad and Mom and my siblings sit on a few of them and the A-listers set my tub down so that it faces what I guess is forward. Well away from the crowd now, I finally have a decent view of what's happening. I prop myself up on my elbows to watch, first making sure my hair's in the right place. 

I see more people back down the aisle where we were a minute ago. Beyond them are a few of those large, furry animals and beyond those I can easily see the big bird-like creatures with their wings folded and heads held high. Wow, they're just as big on the ground! Everyone's attention is riveted on Mom and Dad, like I guess it should be. I suppose there'll be plenty of time to stare at all the strange animals later. 

“Lady Juniper, Chief of the Clan MacKenzie by the clan's choice,” continues the announcer, who I've heard someone call a herald. 

Juniper walks forward to some ululating voices and a couple of bagpipes. I love bagpipes. I wish there was someone at home who can play them. Juney isn't wearing her armor, but is otherwise in what I recognize as fighting clothes...gambeson and so forth. “This is...quite something, isn't it, Mike?” she say, an amused lilt amplifying that already lent by her vaguely Scotch-Irish accent. 

“It's something alright,” he agrees, sounding less than enthusiastic, then motions her to another chair to Mom's right. I think I see Mom glare at Juney, but I don't know why. 

“His Excellency invites into his court...” continues the herald. 

“Oh, for cryin' out loud,” mutters Dad. 

“Just smile and nod, dear,” says Mom. 

“...Rapunzel Firewalker and Eugene Fitzherbert, Co-sovereigns of Corona, and the Crown Princess Sophia.” 

The three of them process. There's something different about them, but I don't have enough experience to tell what. They bear themselves like Dad does: confidently, but without the arrogance I've seen in so many others who are in charge of stuff. I at least know that much. But they also carry themselves with the same sort of grace that Juney does and they seem to be enjoying themselves. 

Eugene wears a purple shirt—I'm unsure what style it is, though I'm sure there are quite a few people present who could tell me more than I'd want to know about it—with a large yellow sun. Rapunzel wears a knee-length tunic in red with what looks like a yellow flaming flower surrounded by three yellow suns. Her hair is brown with an odd orange tint to it—not the rust-orange usually called “red” in hair, like what Juney has, but as though there was some sort of orange light coming from _inside_ it—and tied back in a bun, a pair of black stones on hair pins visible below a golden crown, hers similar to, but more delicate than, the one the King wears. She's also barefooted. What sort of queen goes around barefooted? Then I notice that Sophia--who wears a tunic with both designs quartered, her hair also in a bun, and an elegant coronet with three large, leaf-shaped diamonds--is also barefooted. Huh. Aren't they...cold? Then again, I'm completely naked and half-submerged in water and I'm not cold. 

They stop a few feet from Mom and Dad “Thank-you for letting us do this,” says Eugene. 

“You mean we had a choice?” says Dad. 

“Of course you did,” says Rapunzel. 

“But it's very important,” adds Sophia. 

I can't see Dad's expression. “Um...have a seat, I guess,” he says, motioning to three chairs to Juniper's right. They settle themselves with perfect decorum and the herald moves to stand behind them. 

Eugene turns toward her family. “Lord Bear,” he says, “do you have anything to say before we begin?” 

“Sure,” says Dad. He stands up, then raises his voice. “It's been a long day already, a long night and an even longer day before. It's already been...uh...really weird. I'm don't know if it can get any weirder, but I sure hope not. I don't know how much more weirdness I can handle.” A few murmurs and chuckles float through the crowd. He clears his throat and turns to the King and Queen. “Anyway...uh...thanks for saving our asses yesterday. I hope what hospitality we can give you will at least be a start toward repaying that.” He turns back to face the audience. “Let's all try to stay out of their way. That includes not gawking too much at their...animals. Oh, and _please_ don't call me 'Excellency,' alright?” Some chuckles go through the crowd. 

“Yes, your Excellency!” calls someone. Dad groaned audibly and face-palms. I try unsuccessfully to suppress a giggle. 

After Dad sits down, the herald continues. “Thus begins the court of Their Majesties Corona! 

“Their Majesties invite into their court Thorin, Konung Norway!” 

A young man who looks a little like the King of Corona walks forward, his clothing a mixture of purple, green, and yellow. He nods curtly, smiles, then takes a seat. 

"Their Majesties invite into their court Syrena, Queen of the Galapagos Seamount, the Cascadia Abyssal Plain, and heir to the Persian Empire, and her husband Philip, the King Consort!” 

A group of A-listers carry a pair of metal horse troughs—each holding one of the announced royals--up the aisle. I recognize Philip and Syrena immediately and I waved at them as they draw near. They both smile warmly and wave back, but in a much more graceful way than me. I notice that Syrena's also naked and has her hair draped artfully over her own breasts. I resist the urge to stick my tongue out at Mom. The A-listers set the tubs down, facing forward, to Sophia's right. 

“Sorshun, Tahundron of the lothnellir and his alsklinga Leihara, Tahundrin.” 

Both animals stride forward majestically. They're beautiful! Their fur's in mottled shades of greens and browns mostly. One wears a large purple scarf with a gold sun and held...er...paws, I guess...with the other, who also wears a large scarf, but red with what looks like the same flower and suns that adorn Rapunzel's tunic. I wonder about the significance of that. I do understand the murmurs that go through the crowd as the two process and guess that the two, along with the others I've already seen, were highly instrumental in Portland's defeat the day before. The two take their place on the other side of Syrena, settling themselves onto the ground. 

“Lonyali As-shustina, Queen of Ingary!” continues the herald. The woman in question marches briskly down the aisle in a crisp, no-nonsense gait, flanked by two others who stand a good head taller. Lonyali stops a few paces in front of Eugene and Rapunzel. 

All three re dressed entirely in soft leather, but not of a kind I recognize and not especially bulky either like the hard leather armor I've seen some people wear. Some of it's brown, but some's mottled in cream and black. All ear riding boots and sturdy leather gloves. She unfastens a strap under her chin and removes a stiffened leather helmet. It looks a lot like pictures I've seen of what were called World War One pilots, but sturdier and shaped a little more like what I've seen in pictures of American World War Two soldiers. Lonyali shakes her head slightly and a ponytail flops down onto her back. Her hair has an odd purple cast to it. Surely that's not a natural color. 

I've heard stories of people dying their hair, but I've always thought them silly and far-fetched like all that other pre-Change stuff. Clearly at least that hadn't been an exaggeration, though why anyone would choose purple as a hair color is beyond me. 

Lonyali neatly tucks the helmet into the crook of one arm, then thumps a fist across her own chest in what I suppose is some sort of salute. The Coronan royals return it before Lonyali addresses them. I've never heard the woman's language before, but I somehow understand it. 

“Hral, ya-Rapunzela-Rana, ya-Eugene-Ranon,” hail, Queen Rapunzel, King Eugene, says Lonyali, giving them both a curt nod that I think is meant to be a gesture of respect. 

“Hral, ya-Lonyali-Rana. Lomenish. Thufarhan fosishaspar,” hail, Queen Lonyali. Welcome. Chase the wind. 

“Thusielin fosikontash,” touch the sky, replies Lonyali. 

“Lali, fosimuenlir,” please, join us, says Eugene, gesturing toward the last remaining chair. 

“Loramin,” thank-you, she replies, nodding again, then walking briskly to the chair and sitting down just as briskly upon it. A man I don't recognize steps up behind Lonyali and a brief, but low, conversation ensues. 

“Syrena and Philip call before them Mary Havel, daughter of the Bear Lord,” announces the herald. 

I start, a surge of anxiety rising up within me. I like Syrena and Philip. They saved my life and I trust them, but I still feel suddenly nervous and I don't know why. I turn toward a sudden movement to face a young, silver-haired woman. “Do not be alarmed, young one,” she says, her voice carrying an odd accent. “They wish to talk to you about something.” 

“Couldn't they just do it?” 

“You will see,” says the woman disarmingly. 

I suddenly feel more relaxed and several A-listers pick up my tub and carry it over in front of Philip and Syrena. 

“What are they doing?” says Mom quietly as I pass. 

I shrug. “Dunno,” I say, trying to be as quiet. 

The mer-royals raise themselves out of their tubs and each lay a hand on one of my shoulders. The touch feels reassuring. “How do you fare, young one?” ask Syrena. 

“Okay, I guess,” I sat. “It's weird, though.” 

“Yes, it is,” says Philip. “You're strong, though. You'll adapt.” That makes me feel better. I've been a little uneasy about the whole mermaid thing even after calming down from the initial alarm at waking up underwater with strangers. 

“We would like to ask you to do something for us,” says Syrena. 

“What's that?” 

“Never, in our long history, has any of us changed one so young as you,” she continues. “Rarely have we changed one of what the humans regard as an important family. Both of those things make you special. You have a unique opportunity before you.” 

“Make no mistake,” says Philip, “what we'll ask you to do will be very difficult for you and for your family. But we think it's important.” 

I furrow my brow. “What do you want me to do?” 

“Do you know what an ambassador is?” asks Philip. 

I nod. 

“We want you do to that,” says Syrena. 

“Really?” I say, excitement rising within me. Then, “wait...how will I get to the water and back home again?” 

“We will have to discuss it with your parents first,” says Philip. “That's only fair and proper and we will not enter into any such agreement with you without their consent. It is...a delicate matter.” 

“You would live with us and be apart from your family. It will be very hard for you,” says Syrena. 

“But you would also be a bridge between our people and yours,” says Philip. 

“You need not decide at this moment,” adds Syrena, “but we do ask you if you are willing to consider our offer.” 

I think about it. It's very exciting, but very scary at the same time. An ambassador! That would be...cool! But I don't really know what exactly I'd be doing, other than leaving my family and that alone terrifies me. But I also have a feeling that I'm being given a chance to do something extraordinary and I somehow want to do it. “I...am willing,” I say at last. “But I hafta ask my mom and dad first.” 

“Of course,” says Philip. “In fact, there's going to be a meeting after court where we'll discuss that, among other things. We'd like you to attend that meeting, as it will directly affect you.” 

I nod. “Okay.” 

“Whoa,” says Dad, rising to his feet, “what if it's not okay?” 

“That is why we will discuss it,” says Syrena. “We ask only for her willingness to do it, not for her commitment. That decision comes later.” 

“Please,” says Rapunzel disarmingly, “sit down.” 

Dad sits hesitantly. 

Syrena nods to the A-listers and they return my tub to its place. “Mary Havel will consider accepting Queen Syrena's offer to appoint her as ambassador from the Bearkillers pending discussion with the Bear Lord and Lady,” announces the herald. Murmurs go through the crowd. 

Then Eugene and Rapunzel rise to their feet. “Bring forth the prisoners!” calls Eugene. 

Two lothnellir approach, each one firmly holding someone by their arms. Both of the restrained people are hooded and one struggles violently, though lopsidedly, against the animal's vise-like grip. They carry the two down the aisle amid more murmurs and set them roughly onto the ground in front of the Coronan royals before releasing them and stepping back and sinking down onto their haunches so people behind them can see. Both people pull the hoods from their heads and blink. 

At first, I don't recognize them. No, actually, I've never seen them before. But neither of them, even the woman, have any hair on their heads whatsoever. The man's right arm hangs limply at his side, but not really in the manner of a dislocated shoulder. I've seen enough of those to know how people who had them act. Whatever made that man's arm limp was something different. I hear several people behind her whisper and mutter the name “Arminger.” So that answers that. 

Eugene leans over to his wife. “You were right,” he says quietly, “they _are_ funny-looking without their hair.” 

Rapunzel giggles imperceptibly. “Normie!” she says cheerily. 

Norman Arminger locks eyes with Rapunzel. “ _YOU!_ ” he growls. “You _BITCH!_ ” He spits at Rapunzel, but the spittle evaporates before reaching her. 

Rapunzel steps forward and, without warning, strikes out with her right hand. The heel of her palm hits Norman's left cheek with a forceful, driving, decidedly un-ladylike blow. It leaves a mark that looks too red to be just from the impact. 

“Only two kinds of people have the right to call me that,” says Rapunzel flatly, “the families of those I've killed in battle...and Mother Theresa. You are neither.” 

A few snickers drift through the spectators. 

“I have every right!” 

“You have nothing of the sort,” retorts Rapunzel. 

“ _F**K YOU!_ ” 

Rapunzel strikes out with her left hand, this time delivering a blow to Arminger's right cheek, leaving blisters. How'd she do that? 

“Now be quiet, or I shall give you the third degree, as it were,” says Rapunzel, slight irritation in her voice. “You know I can and you know I will.” 

“Leave him alone!” snaps Sandra. 

Norman just glares, breathing heavily. 

“I don't think so,” says Rapunzel, who then turns her head and nods to the herald. 

“Norman Arminger,” he begins, his voice carrying across the field to bounce off the hills, “you have been vanquished on the field of battle. Therefore as your vanquishers, we, Rapunzel and Eugene, enact the following by right of war. 

“First, the person of Norman Arminger, erstwhile Lord Protector of Portland, shall upon the conclusion of our court, be remanded to the joint custody of the Bearkillers and MacKenzies to stand trial for crimes against humanity. 

“Second, the person of Sandra Arminger, wife of Norman Arminger, shall upon the conclusion of our court, likewise be remanded to the joint custody of the Bearkillers and MacKenzies to stand trial for crimes against humanity. 

“Third, the person of Mathilda Arminger, daughter of Norman and Sandra, shall remain in the custody of Juniper MacKenzie to remain under her care until such time as she reach her majority under MacKenzie Clan convention.” 

“Please,” Sandra begins. I'm sure I hear real fear in that voice. “I be...” A glare from Rapunzel silences Sandra mid-word. That's impressive. I've heard that Sandra doesn't back down from _anyone_! 

“Fourth, effective immediately, all power and authority, both expressed and implied, held or executable by the Protector or any subordinates, is transferred to us.” 

“The hell it is!” barks Norman. Rapunzel and Eugene barely react. That's also impressive. I've heard that _everyone_ backs down in front of Norman. 

“Fifth, effective immediately, all lands, territories, holdings, possessions, resources, etcetera owned, controlled, held, occupied by or in any other way associated with the Portland Protective Association are ours.” 

A murmur goes through the crowd. Norman just glares, his nostrils flaring. The herald pauses before continuing. 

“Sixth, effective immediately, all ranks, titles, positions, etcetera, including but not limited to, baron, count, earl, lord, knight, bestowed, granted, awarded, appointed, assigned, or in any other way designated by Norman or Sandra Arminger or any of their subordinates are null and void. 

“Seventh, effective immediately, all laws, regulations, etcetera are suspended pending our Royal review and revision. 

“Eighth, effective immediately, all contracts, agreements, deals, etcetera made between any part of the Portland Protective Association and any other entity, are suspended pending our Royal evaluation and redaction.” 

“Go to hell!” growls Norman. 

“You first,” says Eugene calmly. 

“Ninth, effective immediately, the political entity known as the Portland Protective Association is dissolved. 

“Tenth, effective immediately, the erstwhile Protectorate is renamed Corona. 

“Done by our hand and seal this eleventh day of March, anno-domini two thousand and twenty-one.” 

“So say we, Rapunzel, Konigin!” 

“So say we, Eugene, Konig!” 

“Witness!” calls someone from the crowd. 

“Witness!” echo several others. 

That must be one of those...what was it...oh, yeah, Norse things. 

“You can't do that!” bellows Norman. 

“Oh, I'm pretty sure we can,” says Rapunzel cheerily. 

“Because we just did,” adds Sophia. 

Norman howls with rage and lunges at Rapunzel, his good arm outstretched. Rapunzel abruptly lances out with her right arm and jabs Arminger neatly in the throat, her knuckles crisply and forcefully tapping his Adam's-apple with what looks like a highly precise and measured amount of force intended to produce a specific result. He immediately freezes, then sinks to his knees, gasping for breath. Sandra looks stricken, but neither speaks nor moves. 

“You have been weighed,” says Eugene. 

“You have been measured,” says Rapunzel. 

“And you have been found most egregiously wanting,” says Sophia. 

The proclamation elicits enthusiastic, though not necessarily unanimous, cheering. 

Rapunzel looks over at a pair of Bearkiller A-listers standing nearby. “Get these two out of our sight, if you please,” she says, an obvious note of displeasure in her voice. 

The pair look to Dad, who nods, then take the Armingers into custody. 

“Mordimreni wilhorthar fosohral!” calls Rapunzel. A number of voices, including Lonyali, echo her. 

“Hail the victorious dead!” calls Eugene in English. Much of the rest of the crowd echo him. 

Rapunzel takes a step forward. I like her style. I'm not at all sure what sort of style I'm supposed to like, but Rapunzel certainly doesn't seem to fit my idea of how queens are supposed to be...all stuffy and such. For that matter, Lonyali doesn't either and in fact seems to be a lot like Mom. I like that. I hope I'll have more opportunities to interact with those people...I like them. I have no idea how I'm going to do that as a mermaid, but maybe someone...probably Philip or Syrena...will think of something. 

“People of the Willamette Valley,” begins Rapunzel. Her voice is strong and seems to bounce off the hills. I can feel it vibrate. How does she do that? “Know now that power no longer flows from the edge of a blade! It flows through _this!_ ” 

She raises both her arms and what looks like fire comes out of her hands. It soars toward the sky like two tree trunks, but all bendy and wavy. Then the fire changes shape. Now it's a dragon, then a snake, then a fish, then a bird, and finally a six-petalled flower. It stays like that for a few moments, spinning in the sky before collapsing back into her like a worm disappearing into the ground. She waits for a minute while everyone talks, then continues as if she hadn't just done whatever that was. 

“Some of you would likely say that we've come off on the wrong foot, as it were. You don't know who we are, what we want, why we're here, and so forth. We understand that. Our goal is fairly straightforward. We want to establish a workable kingdom in the lands that were until recently known as the Protectorate, a kingdom that's managed in a way that's fair, just, and above all, sensible. We want Corona to be a place people will want to live and work. The Armingers and their...thugs...have done an awful lot of damage over the last decade and it will take some time to undo that damage. We have a plan, one we've been working and reworking for a while, but it's a little complicated, so we're asking you all to bear with us on it. We have come to start something, something great and wonderful. As of this moment, however, we are no longer enemies!” 

Initial murmurs give way to building, though still restrained, cheers. 

“Our first act as the new management of the new geopolitical seat of Corona is to abolish indentured servitude. Effective immediately, _no_ resident of Corona is to live with one of those infernal steel collars around their necks! We don't care what they've done, real _or_ imagined. That ends _now_!” 

That brings another round of cheering. 

“Now,” says Rapunzel, “we all still have plenty of work to do. Those of us up here...” She gestures at all the leaders around her. “...and a few not up here...and you know who you are...have a meeting in about an hour. Otherwise, there's still mop-up and our medical staff could still use a lot of extra hands patching up your wounded.” 

“What about my house?” says someone. 

“You must mean the one we broke capturing the Armingers,” says Sophia. “Don't worry, we're cleaning up our mess, too, and that includes the damage done to your house, as well as to your fields.” 

“So,” says Rapunzel, turning to Dad, “unless your Excellency has something else?” 

Dad goes a bit rigid. All that Medieval stuff really does annoy him and I think it's funny. 

“No, I think we've covered it...your Majesty.” There's an edge to that last word, but the Queen apparently ignores it. 

“Then before you all disperse to whatever it is you'll be doing, I'd like to advise you _not_ to approach the Ingarian animals. Some of them are dangerous and a few of those are _very_ dangerous...especially the flying ones. And, of course, as you can see...” She gestures to Queen Lonyali. “...they're most definitely _not_ Nazgul.” That brings more chuckles. “Ogle them if you want, but _please_ do it from a healthy distance. Some of the lothnellir have set up a perimeter and we need you to respect that.” She turns to the herald and nods. 

“You all have their Excellencies' leave to go about your business,” announces the herald. “Long live the Kings! Long live the Queens! Long live the Princess! Long live the Chief! Long live their Excellencies!” Most of that is echoed by many of the people in the audience. 

I notice the dispersal began almost before the exhortations are finished. No sooner has that been done, then Sophia and Rapunzel begin to motion the leaders to gather round. Dad's grumbling about being called an Excellency and it makes me giggle. 

“Now,” says Rapunzel, “I'd like to meet right back here in an hour. I'd like all of you, plus any of your senior staff, plus representatives from Mount Angel and Corvallis. It looks like we'll have to hold separate meetings with CORA, Pendleton, Yakima, and eventually Boise. What we have to discuss involves and affects everyone.” 

“Alright,” says Dad, “but would you _please_ not call me 'Excellency?'” 

“What would you prefer?” 

“Mike.” 

Rapunzel shrugs. “Very well...Mike. Oh, and it could take the rest of the afternoon, so I recommend something resembling luncheon before we begin.” She pauses. “No, on second thought, we'll supply the food.” 

“Sure,” says Dad, “whatever you say.” 

“And you need not tiptoe on eggshells around us, Mike,” says Rapunzel good-naturedly. “We won't bite...much...or hard...unless you ask.” 

Dad raises an eyebrow and Uncle Eric tries unsuccessfully to stifle some laughter. 

“As long as you respect us,” adds Rapunzel. “Now, we'll see you in an hour. In the meantime, I have to touch bases with a few of our people.” With that, she, Eugene and Sophia turn and trot off in different directions leaving everyone else blinking some more.


	2. A Glimmer of Hope

Juniper MacKenzie sat on a stool at one end of the large ice structure one of the Coronans had constructed for what the apparent King and Queen of Corona were calling an international peace summit. While the royals hadn't been specific about who would be joining them, aside from those who'd been in court, they'd insisted they'd need the space.

And what a space it was! The ice wall that had risen out of the ground during the battle the day before had been massive, imposing, and clearly intended to keep anything and everything contained. The room around them was just the opposite. A dozen thin columns barely bigger than a human leg rose up out of the turf, soaring in graceful arches overhead. Plates of ice spanned the spaces between the columns and the arches they defined. Every surface was etched with hexagonal snowflake patterns. The afternoon sun diffused through the entire structure, making it glow a bright yellow. 

Mike Havel had suggested they have a sort of pre-meeting. All the usual suspects were present, as he was fond of putting it. He, Signe, Eric, Will, Ken, Aaron and Mary represented the Bearkillers, all in jeans, beat-up tennis shoes, and button-up shirts, except for Aaron, who didn't have feet owing to an unfortunate incident with some Eaters early in the first Change year, and Mary, who still wore nothing at all and was perfectly fine with that. Mike insisted that he could be comfortable and respectful at the same time and had to grudgingly extend that conviction to his bath-tub-bound daughter.

Astrid and Eilir, clad in tunics emblazoned with the black-and-white tree-and-stars, represented the Dunedain Rangers.

Juniper had brought Sam and Chuck with her, she and Chuck in kilts as always, Sam still clinging to trousers and a tunic, and Juniper adding the floppy Scots bonnet she wore on special occasions. They'd all packed spare clothing in the event that they'd have to do something that warranted them not looking like they'd just stepped out of a slaughterhouse.

Abbott Dmowsky, still in maille-and-surcoat, and Peter Jones, in an old but almost-good-as-new OSU Beavers hoodie, rounded out the Valley's representation.

Juniper was still having a little trouble wrapping her mind around the fact that Mary had become an actual flesh-and-blood mermaid, and she knew the girl's family was having an even harder time with it. It helped that they'd all seen enough otherwise impossible things, beginning with the Change itself and culminating with what they'd just seen on the battlefield. It also helped that Juniper herself was accustomed to believing in things that others regarded as laughable. The only reason an eight-year-old girl was present was that her father insisted that if she were going to be an ambassador of sorts—and he apparently still hadn't quite made up his mind about it, as it had more or less been sprung on him—she might as well be privy to the discussions, though Juniper was unsure just how much of it she'd understand or how quickly she'd be bored.

The Allied representatives sat in a wide semi-circle, a large gap in the ice wall to their right spilling a goodly amount of raw sunlight into the space.

“Remind me yet again why I agreed to do this,” said Mike.

“Same reason you agreed to let them hold court, honey,” replied Signe.

“I guess. It still doesn't make sense, though. Why would they go to all the trouble? Not to mention that it cost us more than a few lives...and I'm still sore about that.” He paused. “And they make me...nervous. And not in the way Arminger made me nervous.”

“I don't blame you,” said Dmowsky. “I remain to be convinced of the necessity of it myself.”

“I still don't get any bad vibes off of any of them,” said Juniper. “But you're right, Mike...it doesn't really add up. Why go looking for a fight? More to the point, why drag the rest of us into it?”

“And why would they have gone out of their way to save Mary?” said Aaron. “Still have no idea how they...did that.”

“Well, I like them,” said Mary. “All of them. I 'gree with Juney. They don't wanna hurt us.”

“She has a point,” admitted Peter. “I know I missed all the...fun, I guess...but they've been going out of their way to clean up their mess, including patching up all the damage to...well, everything and everyone. I trust them. And...well, this might sound crazy, but I know them.”

“When were they in Corvallis?” said Mike.

“No,” said Peter, “from somewhere else.” At everyone's raised eyebrows, he continued. “My wife and I met them on the Pacific Crest Trail the summer before the Change.”

“Oh?” said Mike, leaning forward a little. “What can you tell us about them? What kind of people are they?”

“Well...they're...fun...and...nice.”

“Nice?” said Eric. “Nice people don't charge in and slaughter people.”

“ _We_ do,” countered Mike.

“Only out of dire necessity,” said Dmowski.

“I think we can all agree on that,” said Juniper.

“Fair enough,” said Peter. “But Josey and I hiked with them for a total of...” He paused to think. “...a couple of months. Parts of California, half of Oregon, and two-thirds of Washington. Rapunzel had a penchant for eating the wildlife...uncooked. Then there's the pyrokinesis thing...and the bioluminescence thing...which isn't really bioluminescence per se...”

“The _what_?!” said Ken.

“Never mind,” said Peter. “Anyway, other than that, they're perfectly normal people. Rapunzel's kind of the free-spirit type and Eugene's a man's man. And I'm eternally indebted to them for getting me and Josey together. Although...they seem to have changed.”

“We all have,” said Signe.

“Interesting,” said Dmowski.

“I'm trying to reserve judgment...and fear...until I know how they did what they did out there,” said Ken. “Although at this point, I'd settle for knowing _what_ they did.”

“Magic,” said Mary.

“There's no such thing as magic, sweetheart,” said Mike gently.

“Really, Papa?” said Mary dubiously. She raised her tail out of the water and waved it over her head. She looked up at it, then back at her father. “Are you sure?” She gently returned her tail to the water.  
Mike stared at his daughter for a moment. “Uh...no, not really.”

“I don't know about any of you,” said Eric, “but I'm just about ready to believe anything.”

“I believe,” said Astrid.

“Of course you do,” said Eric, not quite keeping the eye-rolling out of his voice.

“Don't be too hard on your sister,” said Juniper. “There are things beyond the realms of our understanding...things that lie within the purview of the Goddess...things we may be inclined to call magic.”

Eric looked at Mary. “Well...they did turn my niece into a fish.”

Mary hissed and everyone looked at her.

“Mary, honey,” said Signe, “that was rude.”

“He called me a fish,” she growled.

“But...” Erik gestured to the tail.

“Don't call me a fish,” she insisted. “I'm _not_ a fish! I only sorta look like one and only on the bottom.”

“Uh...sorry?” said Eric.

Mary considered him for a minute. “Are you really?”

“Yeah...yeah I am. I didn't mean to insult you. It's just that...well, none of us know how to deal with...mermaids.”

Mary extended an arm toward him and he stepped over and gave her a big hug.

“Thanks for not wearing armor,” she said. That brought some giggles.

“Still,” said Mike, “when people like that just show up out of nowhere and trample our enemy into the ground...”

“And patch up our wounded,” interrupted Aaron.

“Yeah, and that...surely they want something in return. It's all so...unusual.”

“Like they all but ignored us,” said Juniper.

“And they wouldn't let us give the mercy stroke,” said Astrid.

“And they turned Mary into a mermaid,” said Erik.

Further conversation was interrupted by footsteps...a _lot_ of footsteps. They looked up to see their company round the corner.

Juniper had seen most of them earlier, but she'd still been a bit distracted. First came Eugene, Rapunzel, and Sophia, all comporting themselves in a relaxed, yet regal, manner and somehow managing not to give off any sort of self-absorbed air. For self-described royalty—Juniper wouldn't go so far as to call them self- _proclaimed_ , for there was something about them that strongly suggested they were genuine—their appearance belied it. Their clothing consisted of loose-fitting tunics similar to those she'd seen them wearing during their visit to Dun Juniper, but dyed in muted tones of what medievalists called livery. The design emblazoning their fronts was what she'd seen at court and on their armor, so at least they were consistent. Rapunzel and Sophia were barefooted...again...and Juniper strongly suspected neither of them ever wore shoes and probably hadn't for quite some time. She also noticed that both women's hair had an unusual orange cast. It wasn't the red of Juniper's own, but something else she couldn't identify...something that was completely unrelated to the physical hair strands themselves. Both women also had that hair gathered up in buns secured with hair pins.

Then the tall, well-dressed man who'd been doing most of the announcing...heralding, they called it...at court earlier. She remembered being quite impressed with his projection and noted that it was almost as though he had an amplifier...which was preposterous, since those hadn't worked since the Change. He bore himself with confidence...perhaps over-confidence, and it seemed to Juniper that he'd likely been quite stuck on himself once upon a time.

On his arm was a slender, attractive, young woman, perhaps his wife. Juniper immediately noticed two things about her. One was that her hazel eyes were large. It wasn't the same illusion created by the variation in the soft tissue surrounding the eye that made some people's eyes appear larger than others. The woman's eyeballs...and her irises...were literally a quarter again the size they should be. Yet that didn't seem to unbalance her features or in any other way detract at all from the overall prettiness of her face. In fact, if anything, it only amplified it. Something about her bearing...and the muted earth-tones of her clothing...told Juniper that she was one of those “she don't know she's beautiful” types.

The other thing was that her hair, tied back in a ponytail gathered above her occipital lobe, was silver. It wasn't platinum blonde, or the elderly grey-white that was so often generously called silver. It was literally silver, as though it were made of living metal or woven moonlight. It reminded Juniper of brushed stainless steel and seemed to literally glow with some inner light. She and her male companion wore what Juniper would imagine could come if one were to combine Victorian English, Russian Cossack, and Medieval Norse clothing, as well as matching pendants of a stone the likes of which Juniper had never seen before. It was a dark blue-green and seemed to shine with an inner light which seemed to draw one into it.

After the pair came a woman who appeared to be approaching middle-aged and strongly resembled the well-dressed man and Juniper guessed they were probably siblings. Another seemingly middle-aged man accompanied her and then a younger man who resembled them both and was probably their son.

After them came another woman with the same large eyeballs, but with blue-green irises and light-brown hair delicately streaked with purple—as though she'd colored every third strand, which was either preposterous or highly time-consuming, though there was something about it that suggested that it might somehow be natural--and tied in a ponytail gathered at the nape of her neck. Juniper recognized her as the woman who'd been announced as Queen Lonyali.

Another man was with her, also with large eyes—he appeared to be one of the two who'd accompanied her in court. They both still wore the strange-looking riding leathers—some of which looked suspiciously like harbor seal skin--they had earlier and both held themselves with what Juniper had come to know as a military bearing. She saw it in Mike, his A-listers, in Peter, in the Mt. Angel warrior-monks and in the Protectorate...or, she reminded herself, what _used_ to be the Protectorate...knights. Only the Queen of Ingary and her companion carried it off without the usual extra bravado Juniper usually saw and she was sure they'd both earned their confidence honestly and with a lot of hard work and discipline. And there was something else about their manner, something she could see in their eyes...as though they were survivors of something much worse than the aftermath of the Change.

After them came the two...what were they called...oh, yes, lothnellir. Their fur was mottled in shades of black, brown, grey, and olive that would have made for excellent forest camouflage, one of them with jet-black ram-shaped horns streaked with grey which reminded her of the obsidian on the western flank of Middle Sister up in the High Cascades. Juniper thought she recognized intelligence behind their eyes...not the sort she sometimes saw in horses or dogs, but actual sentience, as though they could think like humans could. She'd never seen anything like them before and she was very interested to know more about them. She was sure Will was even more interested. A glance in his direction confirmed it...she'd seen the same eagerness in everyone who'd been there in Sutterdown when Rudi had “acquired” Epona.

Finally came several Bearkillers carrying the heavy, water-filled troughs holding Philip and Syrena, both of them naked like Mary. They lowered their loads carefully to the ground and, after giving the mer-folk and then the lothnellir an uneasy glance, exchanged a few quiet words with their boss before retreating from the building.

All the newcomers set up various folding chairs and stools they carried with them and sat down across from the Willamette Valley Allies. The two lothnellir merely settled back on their haunches, while Philip and Syrena rested their arms on the edges of their troughs.

“Thank-you all for agreeing to meet with us,” began Rapunzel, who alone still stood. “I know you each have enough questions to choke a llama and we'll be happy to answer them in due course. In the meantime, as your new neighbors, we have some matters of foreign policy to discuss, as well as a few other things that we think you'll find interesting in a variety of ways. But first...” She broke off and stalked over to Peter.

She stood right in front of him and crossed her arms in a sort of irritable defiance. “GreyJay,” she said, her tone icy.

Peter stood, and Juniper could see a little surprise on his face. “Firewalker,” he said, “I knew I recognized you.” He looked over to Eugene. “Outlaw,” he said amiably and Eugene nodded back.

“Well?” demanded Rapunzel. Whatever it was, Rapunzel was extremely displeased about it. And why did she call him “GreyJay” and why did he call Eugene “Outlaw?” Surely there was an interesting story there, one that she guessed had something to do with their time on the trail.

“Wow, it's good to see you.” He went to hug her, but stopped, as though Rapunzel had suddenly sprouted invisible thorns.

“And?” she demanded.

“And...the last time I saw you two, Josephine...Suncup...and I were headed into Seattle.”

“And?” demanded Rapunzel again.

“And what?”

“And?” she repeated, more insistently.

“Can we...talk about this later...or outside?”

“No.” She glared at him, apparently determined to win their impromptu battle of wills and Juniper had little doubt the Queen would succeed.

Peter exhaled. “Well...we went down there and walked up to the building and...” He paused. “...we didn't even open the door.” He shook his head in a way that suggested he may have been fighting back tears. “We...we just couldn't do it. We turned around and left...went back to the trail and finished our hike. Neither of us has spoken of it since.”

Juniper could almost watch Rapunzel's tension unwind.

“And your baby?” said Rapunzel, now sounding much less threatening.

Peter grinned. “Little...well, she's not so little now...Elsa was born the following April, right after the Change.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Rapunzel in delight, her demeanor abruptly changing. She quickly unfolded and caught Peter in a very firm hug. After a moment, Peter reciprocated. Juniper felt her own eyebrows rise unbidden toward her bangs. “We figured you'd have a girl,” continued Rapunzel cheerily after she'd released Peter. “How precious! And how's the rest of the family?”

“We're all fine. We have a boy and another girl now. You were right. We'd have missed out on so much...have had so many regrets. They really are treasures. And yours?”

“You've met Sophia already, haven't you?” she asked, gesturing toward her companions.

Peter looked over to see the young woman who looked remarkably like Rapunzel. She waved. “Crown Princess, right?” Rapunzel nodded. Peter looked back at Sophia. “You're _nine_?”

Sophia chortled. “Oh, it's been a very long time since anyone's mistaken me for a nine-year-old,” she said amiably.

“What?” said Peter.

“That's classified for now,” said Rapunzel. She turned, walked over toward her chair.

“GreyJay?” said Erik to Peter.

“Trail name,” he replied. “Long story. Ask me later.”

Rapunzel paused in front of Mary and knelt down to her eye-level. “Hello, miss Mary,” she said, looking her straight in the eyes. “How are you doing?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“May I have a look at your tail?”

“Sure.” Mary held it up out of the water. Only then did Rapunzel look at it...and look at it she did. “Oh, that's beautiful! I love the colors! They're very pretty.”

“Thank-you,” said Mary, then put her tail back into the water.

“How are you dealing with being a mermaid?”

“It's kinda weird.”

“I know.”

Mary cocked her head inquisitively. “You do?”

“Going to sleep as a normal person and then waking up as something very different and extraordinary isn't easy. But you'll adapt. The two most important things are here...” She touched her own head. “...and here...” She touched her own chest. “You have to be strong, though. And if you're anything like your mother and father, I know that won't be a problem. Always remember that who you are and what you are are two different things. Does all that make sense?”

“I think so.”

“Don't worry if the pieces don't all come together right now. They will eventually.” She reached out toward Mary and then paused. The girl seemed to know what Rapunzel had in mind and extended her own arms and the two of them hugged briefly.

“You're warm,” said Mary.

“I know,” said Rapunzel with a shrug. “Just be thankful you don't suddenly have the capacity to accidentally burn down your own house and kill people,” she added with a wry smile. That brought a giggle from Mary. Then she stood up and returned to her chair. 

_And that_ , thought Juniper, _is yet another story_. She wondered how many more of those would become apparent by sunset.

“Oh, and we brought you something,” said Rapunzel to Mary. One of the lothnellir picked up a five-gallon bucket, stepped over to Mary's tub, and poured its contents into the water.

“Trout!” squealed Mary. She rummaged in the water and soon came up with a wriggling rainbow trout. She held it up to her mouth, but was interrupted by her mother.

“What are you doing?” protested Signe. “You don't like fish.”

Mary looked at her mother like she was crazy. “Yes, I do,” she said.

“Since when?”

“Since I was a mermaid.”

“Um,” said Eric, pointing at it, “they're still alive.”

“Nothing gets by you, does it,” said Astrid.

“We thought you'd appreciate them fresh,” said Rapunzel.

“Thank-you,” said Mary, then bit into her fish.

“Oh, that's gross,” said Astrid. Mary just shrugged and kept chewing.

Erik leaned over toward his sister. “Whatever happened to, 'give it to us raw and wriggling?'” he said using his best Smeagol impression. Astrid stuck her tongue out at her brother.

“Mary,” said Mike, “that's bad manners.”

“Oh, we don't mind,” said Rapunzel, returning to her seat. “That's nothing I haven't done myself.

“Anyway,” continued Rapunzel, apparently returning to a previous discussion, “like he said, our time on the PCT is a long story. It's a good one and we had a lot of fun on the trail.” She shot her husband a look that seemed to say some things that Juniper was quite sure nobody else had any business knowing. “But unfortunately, it'll have to wait.

“Now, I don't believe we've all been formally introduced, so I'd like to get that out of the way before we get down to business. I'm Elsa Rapunzel Firewalker Syele Agnes Clare Fitzherbert-Corona...though I generally go by Rapunzel. This is my husband Eugene Fitzherbert...” She nodded at Eugene. “...and our daughter Sophia.” She nodded to the very similar-looking woman to her right.

That much Juniper knew, though why the Queen...if she in fact _was_ a queen and not someone who'd taken up the title post-Change the way so many others had...chose to go by Rapunzel was curious. And Rapunzel? Surely there was a story behind that, one more Juniper was very much interested in hearing.

And was Sophia really their daughter? If so, then either the years had been remarkably kind to Rapunzel, or she'd been barely into puberty when she'd had Sophia, or Sophia was precocious, or quite probably all three. Juniper suspected there was something more, however, and she was at a loss to even begin to determine what. She was sure there was an interesting story there, too.

“This is Master Mage Howl Jenkins...” She indicated the tall, well-dressed man. “...and his wife Sophie.” She indicated the silver-haired woman. “Mistress Sophie's our Prime Empathic Healer. Howl's sister Megan, our head human surgeon. Her husband Gareth...” The woman who looked a lot like Howl—and Juniper wasn't sure if it was “Howell” like in Gilligan's Island, or “Howl” like the sound a wolf makes--and the man next to her both nodded. “...who will be interpreting for Queen Lonyali.” Gareth stepped over next to Lonyali and immediately began performing the indicated job. “Their son Neil, who's the world's leading expert on xenobiology.”

Human? thought Juniper. Why make the distinction? Xenobiology? It must have something to do with the lothnellir.

“Philip and Syrena,” she motioned to the mer-people, “whom we've been fortunate to encounter in your local waters and to whom we're all most indebted for saving Mary's life.

“Lonyali, Queen of Ingary,” she said, indicating the leather-clad woman with the purple-ish hair, “who's here on her own business and we'll get to that in due time.

“And Sorshun and Leihara, who are on our command staff,” she concluded, indicating the pair of lothnellir.

 _Command staff?_ thought Juniper. _Why would two animals be on a command staff...unless...they couldn't possibly_ be _sentient...could they?_

Mike Havel, as host, then made his own introductions.

“We're pleased to meet you all,” said Rapunzel. “We usually run our meetings using an informal variation on Robert's Rules and we'd like to do that this afternoon, as well. It works well for us and so long as we don't all try to talk over each other, it should work here, too. So long as everyone's civil and respectful, we can let the metaphorical reins dangle to a point. Also, while we invite questions, please make sure they're relevant to the topic at hand. Otherwise, we could be here all week. If we tell you that we'll get to something later, or that it's classified or not relevant, please let it go. Are there any objections?”

Silence. “So noted,” said Sophia, writing something on a yellow legal pad with a number-two pencil. “And you all...look a little cold,” added Sophia. “Are you?”

“We're used to it,” said Mike.

“Well,” said Sophia amiably, “I didn't ask if you're used it it, I asked if you're cold. 

“We're in a building made of ice,” said Erik. “Why wouldn't we be cold?” 

Surely you'd care to be a little more...comfortable?”

The temperature in the room suddenly shot up by what felt like at least twenty degrees and Juniper started.

“Is that better?” said Sophia.

A quick glance at the other Willamette representatives told Juniper they were just as surprised as she was.

Sophia smiled. “Surely you don't think our powers are useful only for destruction.”

“Whoa,” said Erik.

“Now, then,” said Rapunzel as she turned to Peter. “Major Jones, we'd like you to be our official contact person in Corvallis. Are you willing to represent your people?”

“M...me?” stammered Peter. “Why me?”

“Two reasons,” continued Rapunzel. “First, you're the highest-ranking and most-respected Corvallan on-site.”

“Well,” havered Peter, “I don't know about most- _respected_.”

Rapunzel ignored his protest. “Second, we know you and we've worked with you.”

“You've _hiked_ with me, you mean,” he corrected.

“Remember toiling across the Mojave Desert? And slogging through the High Sierra? And the climb out of Seiad Valley? You can't tell me that wasn't work.”

“You have a point. But I don't think I'm qualified.”

“ _We_ say you're qualified.”

“And that makes it so?”

“As far as this sort of thing is concerned, yes.”

“I don't think I'm authorized.”

“Now we're getting somewhere.”

 _What did that mean?_ thought Juniper.

Peter was apparently a bit confused as well. “All of my people and I are here as volunteers. Our operation was not officially sanctioned by my government.”

Rapunzel's eyes narrowed. “I see. Are you then willing to act as a _provisional_ representative, pending a decision by one of those infernal committees?”

“Uh...I suppose.”

“Splendid! We'll rely on you to help your people see things our way. Your job will involve being liaison when Sophia visits Corvallis and you'll be ambassador to Corona.”

Peter gulped, but didn't protest further.

“Are there any objections?” said Rapunzel. There were none.

“So noted,” said Sophia as she again wrote on the pad.

Eugene rose to his feet and stepped casually to the side of the building opposite the door. “Master Howl, if you would?”

Howl stood up and joined Eugene, but on his other side. He waved a hand and the room dimmed. He waved it again and a map of the greater Pacific Northwest appeared in mid-air.

The others in the room gawked. What else were these people capable of doing, Juniper wondered to herself.

“Yes,” said Howl smugly, “this is more magic, in case you're wondering.”

“Now, we understand there are some outstanding territorial disputes,” said Eugene. Sections of the map lit up in different colors, highlighting the different territories. Then slim areas of yellow appeared around the edges of what Juniper recognized as the Protectorate.

“The yellow areas represent these disputed lands. Does that look about right to you?” He inclined his head and raised his eyebrows inquisitively, awaiting a response.

Several moments passed. “Well,” said Juniper tentatively, “I don't notice anything obvious.”

The others nodded their heads slowly.

“Then it seems we're all in agreement,” continued Eugene. “Now, we're prepared to cede all lands in question, and a bit more besides in cases in which it makes logistical or geographical sense to do so.”

“In exchange for what, precisely?” asked Mike.

“I beg your pardon?” said Eugene flatly.

“It's just that I sense a 'but,'” Mike continued. “You're willing to concede the land...?” He waited for a reply.

“No,” said Eugene, “no strings attached. We relinquish all claim to all disputed lands...end of story. We would like to meet with each of you at some future date to discuss the aforementioned additional land.”

“Um...” said Mike hesitantly, “...no offense, but someone like you...who can do whatever it is that you do...doesn't just show up out of nowhere, effortlessly flatten the most powerful army in the entire Northwest, and expect nothing in return. It just doesn't happen.”

“We frighten you...don't we?” stated Rapunzel.

“Well...yeah,” said Mike. “I can't speak for my allies, but you sure scare the shit out of _me_.”

“Mister Havel,” said Rapunzel, a clear tone of irritation in her voice, “please do not use profanity in our presence. We find it insulting. It weakens the mind, cheapens the soul, and annoys us greatly.” She lowered her head slightly and dropped her voice a little. “Arminger annoyed us,” she said flatly. “You saw what we did to _him_. You're better than that. _Be_ better.”

Juniper thought she heard Mike gulp. _Yes_ , she thought, _these people will be powerful allies or very nasty enemies_. 

“Uh...sorry?” said Mike.

Rapunzel nodded graciously. “We meant every word of what we said in court earlier. We're here to make things better.”

“Let me guess,” said Mike, “you intend to help rebuild the U.S., is that right?”

“No,” said Eugene.

“Why not?”

“In the last four hundred years, we can tell you exactly how many times a political entity has fractured as badly as the United States has and recovered.”

“And?”

“Zero. The United States of America is dead, ladies and gentlemen, despite what certain groups might insist.”

“I doubt Boise would share your pessimistic appraisal of the situation,” said Dmowksi.

“And they'd be wrong. America had a good run and introduced some very worthy ideas. But we intend to build something better.”

“What do you mean?” asked Juniper.

“We're getting to that,” said Sophia, brandishing the legal pad.

“Back to the subject at hand,” said Rapunzel. “Sophia?”

Sophia looked at her pad and read. “Effective immediately, we cede all disputed lands to you our neighbors. We'll meet with you individually to discuss additional land to be ceded to you. Furthermore, we'll meet with CORA, Yakima, Pendleton and Warm Springs at a later date.”

“Furthermore,” said Rapunzel, “the Willamette River, including the Willamette Locks, is a free-passage waterway. In the short-term, we expect that to be most relevant to our mer-friends.”

“Yeah,” said Mike, “that brings up the question of my daughter.”

“She's on the agenda,” said Sophia, indicating the pad.

Juniper was beginning to think that their new allies...and she had no real reason to regard them as otherwise...had thought of everything. It was impressive!

“Furthermore,” said Sophia, again reading from the pad, “Corona's borders are open. Anyone is free to come and go as they wish.”

“Now,” said Rapunzel, “we also don't see the point of tariffs at this juncture, as trade between Corona and its neighbors is virtually nonexistent. We can always revisit it later, especially when we start mining.”

“Mining what?” asked Sam.

“Asteroids,” said Howl.

Ken nearly choked on his drink. “Excuse me? You mean meteorites, don't you?”

“No,” said Howl. “I mean the Asteroid Belt.”

“That's bug-shagging nuts,” said Sam, “if you'll pardon my saying so.”

“No it isn't,” said Rapunzel flatly. “And we'll let that pass. But let me remind you that just because we say something that sounds crazy, that doesn't mean it is. You've all been there, so you know what that's like. Oh, and just because you're swearing in British doesn't mean it isn't swearing. Please don't.”

“Alright,” said Ken, “I'm with you on that, but how in the h...eck...do you plan to mine asteroids? We couldn't even do that _before_ the Change.”

Howl grinned. “We plan to build an IBD...an Industrial Bifrost Device.”

“Bifrost? As in, the rainbow bridge of Norse mythology?”

“Precisely. It's useful for far more than just long-range transportation. We could conceivably configure it to terraform other planets.”

Ken blinked.

“That is so cool!” said Astrid.

“Ya-Howl,” said Eugene, “I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself.”

“Right,” he said, “my apology.”

“Well then,” said Rapunzel, “if there are no objections to what we've discussed so far, we should move along.” There were none and they spent another half-hour finalizing the terms of peace, addressing such things as outstanding grievances and various foreign policies, to the point that Juniper's head was starting to spin a little. She herself had cobbled together the MacKenzie Clan and their relations with the Bearkillers and the Corvallans had been built largely piecemeal and on a foundation of friendship with the philosophy that everyone just wanted to do their own thing, survive, and maybe someday help put the country back together. The Coronans, on the other hand, were _very_ thorough, and it seemed that they'd been putting it all together for a long time, generations perhaps. Every proposal and solution was simple, elegant, and well-balanced. They appeared to have thought of everything. It was impressive...and exhausting.

* * *

“Well, that's done,” said Sophia, glancing at the pad. “Next...miss Mary.” They all turned to look at Mary. “I don't suppose you've had much time to think about Philip and Syrena's offer, have you?”

“No,” said Mike, “not really. Can we sleep on it?”

“Yes,” said Rapunzel.

“This is very important, Lord Bear,” said Syrena. Her accent was unusual—perhaps a little Spanish, but now that she thought about it, more like those Georgian--the ones from south of Russia--students Juniper had met in Corvallis before the Change. “Your daughter is very special...and more than because she is your daughter and has survived what would have been her death. Rarely in our long history has anyone been in a position to bring our people together. When Philip and I were joined in marriage, he and I enjoyed many decades of cooperation between his human family and the one he and I created together. It was wonderful and much better than the way things were before...when my kind used to kill yours.

“Unfortunately, like all good things tend to do, it came to an end. As the oceans became more crowded with the machines your kind built and as you grew more suspicious of our very existence, we felt forced into hiding. Now that the seas have Quieted, and now that the immaterial has once again become material, we hope that our people can once again share our world. Young Mary has an opportunity to become...a bridge, shall we say...between your people and ours. She can help to begin a new chapter in our histories, one which may last.”

“Papa?” said Mary. “I wanna do it.”

“You do?”

She nodded. “I'm kinda scared though. But Philip an' Syrena an' Noah are really nice. Besides, I'd get bored stayin' in the pond all the time.”

Mike looked like he was about to tear up.

“It's scary watching them grow up, isn't it?” said Rapunzel. She sounded to Juniper like she knew far more about that than it would seem.

“But I dunno how I'll get from there to the river and back,” said Mary.

“We have an idea,” said Sophia. “Ya-Lettie?” she called.

Another young woman who looked an awful lot like Sophie, though a bit shorter and with dirty blonde hair tied into a ponytail gathered above the occipital lobe, came in holding a young girl's hand. The girl, her hair the same color, but streaked with deep black strands peppered with white, and tied at the nape of her neck, bore a strong resemblance to Lettie and looked like she might have been nine or ten.

“We discussed the problem with our Earth-Mover this morning,” continued Sophia as Lettie and the girl approached. “Everyone, this is Sophie's sister, Lettie Sheltas and her daughter Mala. Mala's our Earth-Mover.” Mala smiled and curtsied. Everyone waved and said some version of hello.

Sophia pulled a sheet of paper out of a satchel that sat by her chair and handed it to Ken and Mike. “This is our solution.”

The two men looked it over. It was an engineering drawing...a sketch, really, but a very good one. Ken gave a low whistle. “Impressive. But that'll take...months to build. Or it would have, if we still had things like back-hoes.”

“And who'd do the work?” asked Mike. “We're short-handed as it is.”

“Mala will do it,” said Sophia.

“Excuse me?” said Ken. “You're going to make a ten-year-old girl dig _this_? Are you serious?”

“She's nine,” corrected Rapunzel. “And she volunteered.”

“Does she have any idea what she's volunteered to do?” asked Mike.

“It was her idea,” said Howl. “Oh, don't worry, she'll be done inside a week.”

“What?!” said Ken.

“She just spent the last hour re-plowing some of the land torn up by yesterday's military action.”

“How much did she get done?” asked Juniper.

“About an acre,” said Howl.

“What?!”

“She's an Earth-Mover,” he said. “Well... _the_ Earth-Mover. It's been at least three hundred years since Ingary's had a genuine, confirmed Earth-Mover. We're very proud.” He knelt down and gave the girl a big hug. “She'll be able to do much more in much less time as she gets older. We expect her to be quite powerful once she's fully grown.”

That answered a couple more questions, thought Juniper. A couple down...ten _billion_ to go!

“Well,” said Mike, “I guess this solves the coming-and-going thing.”

“And,” said Rapunzel, “Mary will be able to swim from the Willamette directly into your house.”

“I'm a little concerned about security by the wall,” said Mike.

“The tunnel is fifty feet below the wall's footing,” explained Rapunzel. “After excavation, one of us will melt the walls two feet thick in every direction and fuse the whole thing.”

“Fifty feet?” said Peter. “That's pushing it, even for an abalone diver.”

“And abalone divers would have to hold their breath the whole way between the Willamette and the wall,” said Howl. “Anyone who can do that is likely to have enough power to go over or through it anyway. Or they'd have to have SCUBA gear...which doesn't usually work anymore.”

“How deep can your kind dive?” said Ken to Mary.

Mary shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Two hundred thirty fathoms,” said Philip.

Ken whistled again.

“How deep's that?” said Mary.

“Very,” said Ken, “ _Way_ more than fifty feet.”

“Oh.”

“I'm still not sure,” said Mike.

“Perhaps she could live here for half the year and with us for the other half,” suggested Philip.

“Please?” said Mary. “It's important, I just know it.”

“And what happens when you get old?”

“Old?” said Syrena, furrowing her brow. “Oh,” she said after a pause, “you mean aging. That does not happen to us.”

Mike blinked. “You mean...she's going to be eight forever?”

“Oh, no. She will grow to be a woman. But she will not grow old.”

“So,” said Signe, “one day, she'll just...stop?”

Syrena frowned again. “Stop? Stop what?”

Signe sighed in frustration. “You know, just drop dead? When here life's over?”

“Oh, no. We do not die.”

“What?” said Mike.

“Are you telling us,” said Signe, “that she's immortal?”

“Yes. We all are.”

“What's a-mortl?” said Mary.

“It means,” said Mike, “that...that...”

“That you will never die,” said Syrena.

“Oh,” said Mary. “That's good, right?”

“Yeah,” said Mike.

“It depends,” said Rapunzel, “on your point of view.”

Everyone looked at Rapunzel, but she said no more.

Juniper could tell Mike's resistance was rapidly eroding.

Mike sighed. “Okay,” he said. Signe started to protest, but Mike continued. “I'll give you an official 'maybe,' but I really need to sleep on this.” He glanced at Signe. “And argue with my wife about it.” Signe shot him a glare.

“We can start the work whenever you want,” said Howl.

“I don't think we're in a hurry,” said Rapunzel. “But we should probably start by autumn.”

“Yes,” said Syrena, “take as much time as you need. Philip and I can return later.”

“Are there any further objections?” said Rapunzel. There were none.

“So noted,” said Sophia as she wrote on her pad.

“Good. Thank-you, Lettie, Mala. I think we're finished with this for now.”

“What's wrong with her legs?” blurted Mary.

“What?” said Lettie.

Mary pointed to Mala. “Her legs...they have...things on them.”

“Mary, honey,” said Signe quietly, “that's not polite.”

Lettie looked down and Mala followed her mother's gaze. Lettie looked back at Mary in puzzlement. “Nothing.”

“I think she's right,” said Dmowsky.

“No she is not,” said Sophie. Juniper noticed that Sophie was enunciating not just every word, but every syllable, as though she had some sort of speech impediment.

“You haven't been...hurting her, have you?” said Aaron.

Lettie's eyes widened and she rounded on the doctor, erupting in a barrage of something in Ingarian. Sophie stepped quickly over to her sister. “Ya-Lettie? Ya-Lettie!” she said gently, but insistently. Lettie stopped her tirade and turned toward her sister, who proceeded to say something in Ingarian.

No, Juniper corrected herself, Sophie did not have an impediment, just trouble with English, apparently. She noticed that Lonyali was glaring at Aaron, too, and seemed to be physically restraining herself almost as much as Lettie was. They were all clearly insulted.

“She was born that way,” explained Sophie after Lettie had calmed down some.

“And you didn't...try to fix it...surgically?” said Juniper. No sooner had she asked the question, then she realized how absurd it was. Maybe they could have done some sort of reconstructive surgery before the Change, but that sort of thing had been quite impossible since then.

“Her legs are supposed to be like that,” protested Sophie.

“What?” said Signe. “What do you mean they're _supposed_ to be like that?”

“She's Ingarian,” said Howl.

“I don't get it,” said Erik. “What does that have to do with her having...growths...on her legs?”

“We'll be getting to that,” said Sophia as Lettie, Mala, and Sophie returned to their own places.

“I still do not understand your motivation,” said Abbott Dmowski, changing the subject.

“Neither do I,” said Mike. “You wanted the Protectorate and now I guess you have it, but...” His voice trailed off.

“Could you not have taken it peacefully?” said Dmowsky. “Or if not, could you not have invaded it?”

“It's not that we're ungrateful to you for removing the Armingers,” said Signe, “it's...” Her voice trailed off.

“I think,” said Chuck, “that we're trying to say that the devil we know is better than the devil we don't know.”

Rapunzel raised an eyebrow. “You know, we _could_ just pull out of here, let the Armingers go and let you fend for yourselves and then have to deal with him all over again in another ten years.”

A set of rapid footsteps from outside drew everyone's attention. Soon, Luanne Larsson burst into the room. “I'm sorry to interrupt,” she said, a little out of breath, “but someone's killed the Armingers.”

“Or not,” said Sophia lightly, crossing something off the yellow pad, which Juniper guessed was probably an action item related to the Armingers.

“Luanne!” said Erik. He bounced up from his chair, trotted across the room and took her hand in his own, turning it over. “I thought...I mean...”

“Yeah, some man-at-arms cut it off. Hurt like hell.”

“But...how...?”

“They grew it back. I don't know how. Every time I dared to look, a little more had grown back. I could...” She looked at her father. “Dad, I could _watch_ it grow! I passed out a couple of times, though.”

Will had risen to his feet, staring at his daughter.

“You did?” said Erik.

“Yeah. It hurt... _bad_! But...” Her voice trailed off as she flexed her hand.

“How do you grow back a hand?” said Aaron.

“Magic,” said Sophie. She held up her own and flexed it. “But I know how you feel.”

Erik looked back at Sophie. “Thank-you,” he said simply. He looked back at his wife. “You say growing it back hurt worse?”

Luanne nodded.

“It is...unfortunate,” said Sophie, “but that is the way it is.”

“Can you grow _my_ hand back?” said Ken, brandishing his stump.

Sophie stepped over and placed her hand on it. After a moment, “It is too old. It still hurts, does it not?”

“Well, yeah.”

“May I?”

“May you what?”

Sophie raised an eyebrow. “This will hurt for a minute or two. You must remain still.” She closed her eyes and began muttering. Ken winced and grumbled under his breath. A little more than a minute later, Sophie opened her eyes and removed her hand. “How does that feel?”

Ken blinked. “Well, it doesn't hurt anymore. Thanks...I think.”

Sophie nodded and turned to the others. “On Ingary, what you call surgery is rare. Sometimes it is necessary, but we do it so rarely that we seldom have practice. Rather, we rely upon...” She said something in Ingarian to Howl.

“Naturopathic medicine,” he said.

“Yes, thank-you,” said Sophie. “And upon empathic treatment.”

“What's that?” said Aaron.

“Have you ever wanted to tell something to heal faster, or stop hurting and have it simply obey you?”

“All the time,” said Ken.

“That is what we do. We tell cells to regrow and they do. We tell a stomach to quiet and it does. We tell DNA to repair and it will.”

Juniper noticed Sophie's accent. It wasn't something she'd heard before, nor was it like a conglomeration of accents the way certain cosmopolitans might have. It was as though each word had its own accent, some of which sounded familiar and others were...off, though Juniper was at a loss to describe it.

“Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me!” said Aaron.

“Not at all,” said Sophie. “In point of fact, we can teach some of you to do that,” said Sophie.

“And we'll get to that, too,” said Sophia, tapping on the yellow pad. “Besides, might I remind you that Philip and Syrena transformed Mary, something which involved a complete systemic redesign. Believe us when we tell you that far more is possible than you think.”

“Is there anything you people _haven't_ thought of?” said Chuck.

“Maybe,” said Sophia, “but we rather doubt it.”

Rapunzel spoke again. “What else must we do to demonstrate that we're here to improve things? Portland is to be our home. Why should we not wish to be on good terms with our neighbors? Why should we not wish to live in a place where we're welcome? We aim to transform the world and you've seen for yourselves some of the sorts of things we intend to introduce.”

Eric snapped his fingers. “D'oh! _That's_ where I've seen them before!”

“I beg your pardon?” said Rapunzel.

“The...lothnellir,” said Eric. He fidgeted a little. “Um...please tell me most of you have seen 'Empire Strikes Back.'” Several hands went up, mostly belonging to the Bearkiller allies, plus half the Coronans.

“Yes,” said Neil, “they do look like tauntauns, don't they?”

“But...how?” said Eric. “That's a really weird coincidence.”

“Until you realize that it's not a coincidence,” said Howl. He paused for the inevitable raised eyebrows. “George Lucas is an Ingarian. Why do you think he named his company 'Industrial Light and _Magic_?'”

“You can't be serious,” said Mike.

“Why not?”

“That's awesome!” said Erik.

Juniper noticed that Astrid seemed about to explode. She reached out and placed a hand on the young woman's shoulder and she nearly jumped.

“Is there a problem, Hiril Astrid?” said Rapunzel.

“It's just...I...this is...” She broke off with a squee.

Rapunzel giggled slightly. “I see. But I share your excitement. Truly, the rest of you should be as excited as she is.”

“Yes,” said Neil, “Lucas is Ingarian and the lothnellir are related to tauntauns. Some of you are wondering if they're sentient. Wonder no longer, for they are.”

“That young man...Karl...said something like that,” said Mike, “called them people with fur.”

“And that's not far from the truth,” said Neil. “That's not strictly accurate, of course, but that sort of thinking has gone a long way toward helping us all learn to live and work together. But we assure you, the lothnellir think, feel, have souls...just like we do. Their worldview's a bit different and we've been at odds over a few things, but that's no different than between different human cultures.”

“Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle,” said Will, “so much for them replacing horses.”

Sorshun made a series of complex sounds, punctuating them by pointing a clawed finger at Will.

“They have a language, too?” said Will.

“Absolutely,” said Neil. “He says that you shouldn't even try to...domesticate is the closest English equivalent...them. And he's right. A few of us rode a few of them into battle, but it was really more a matter of we were all going to the same place, it was faster, and was to have the intended psychological effect. You might have noticed that no one else was riding any of the others.”

“Then why were the ones in 'Star Wars' ridden?” said Erik.

“The similarities between lothnellir and tauntauns are a little like the ones between humans and chimpanzees. You may also notice that lothnellir forearms are larger, they have opposable thumbs, their fur is a different color, their horns are oriented differently, only males have them, among other things.”

“I'll be damned,” said Mike.

“I sincerely hope not,” said Rapunzel.

“There's another thing bothering me,” said Mike. “How'd you all appear out of nowhere?”

“That's a good question,” said Juniper. “The last time I saw you...well, Rapunzel, Eugene, and Sophia...you were leaving Dun Juniper just after we received word of Arminger's movement.”

Rapunzel smiled. “Eugene, you're an excellent storyteller. Would you like to field this one?”

“I'd be delighted,” said Eugene. Juniper smiled as Eugene began. Finally, a good story, and Juniper was always a sucker for those. “Well, we'd been checking in with our people back east during our reconnaissance tour of the Valley here. Having a pretty good idea that we'd all have to come together, we'd pre-arranged to meet at a designated rendezvous site. Things went pretty much like this...” He took a drink of water and continued....


	3. Groundwork

Willow Creek Reservoir, western Ochoco Mountain foothills  
March 8, CY9, 2021 AD

Eugene and the members of his Command Staff—Rapunzel, Sophia, Appolonia, Howl, Sophie, Nalaya, Sorshun, and Gareth—all stood before the others. He looked out at the faces of all those he'd come to know and love over the last few years. They'd all, human and not, become an extended family to him. He'd shared in the joys of new life and the sorrows of passings and hardships. All nearly three hundred of them—twenty-five of the Fitzherberts, eighty-five humans including the Perrys' Welsh neighbors who'd accompanied Howl out of Wales and the Americans they'd accumulated in the intervening years, fifty-four Ingarians, and a hundred and twenty lothnellir--had come to regard him and Rapunzel with just as much respect and deference as they did Howl, which was saying something. For the next couple of days, Eugene would be acting in his capacity as their supreme military commander, a role he'd held between Rapunzel's father's death and their exodus from Corona.

Everyone was assembled on a sloping hillside rising northward from Willow Creek upstream of the reservoir. The air was unseasonably warm and filled with the scent of the junipers and sagebrush that peppered the slope behind Eugene's spectators. The sun had just set beyond the Cascades to the west and everything was in pre-dusk shadow.

Eugene turned to Howl. “Master Howl, if you would?” he said.

Howl made a couple of hand gestures and a map of western Oregon—a hybrid topographic and aerial view--appeared in mid-air, the image the size of a pre-Change drive-in movie screen.

“Here's the situation,” began Eugene. “We've spent a good deal of time discussing and refining the generalities of possible plans. Now we get down to specifics.

“Rapunzel and Sophia have succeeded in compelling Arminger and his Protectorate army to take to the field. Arminger further took the proverbially offered bait and has attacked the Bearkillers with the full force of his military. At this time, only we here assembled are privy to this information. Also, since we started the fight, as it were, we'll be going in to resolve it. Remember, this is at least as much of a political and psychological operation as it is a military one, so timing is critical if we are to achieve the intended results.

“As of this afternoon, Arminger has forces as far south as Zena.” The map zoomed in to show everything from Willamina-Salem Highway--once designated OR-22--north to the South Yamhill River at the edge of McMinnville and from the Willamette River west to just beyond Pacific Highway West--once designated OR-99W. A small light appeared on the map at the eastern foot of the  
Eola Hills marking the location.

“He's already taken Amity and has troops at every major intersection in the area.” More lights appeared, marking those locations. “He now effectively controls Pacific, Amity-Dayton, and Lafayette Highways and Wallace, Zena, Bethel, and Brush College Roads.” The roads in question lit up as Eugene mentioned them. “This is ostensibly to restrict the capacity of the Bearkillers to move about within their own territory and by extension the ability of their allies to reinforce them.”

“Fortunately for us,” added Howl, “we don't necessarily _need_ roads.”

Eugene grinned and chuckled. “Exactly right,” he said. “Thanks to Howl's work with doorways, we can place anyone anywhere at any time...within obvious limits, of course.” Eugene turned back to the map. “The focus of Arminger's operation is the Bearkiller capital Larsdalen.” Another light marked it on the map.

“Nice place,” added Sophia, “nice people.”

“A people who deserve to have better neighbors than the likes Arminger and his...thugs,” growled Rapunzel.

“I couldn't agree more,” said Eugene. “The bulk of the enemy force is investing the citadel. Therefore, the main field of our own operation will be centered there.

“The Protectorate army numbers some twelve thousand strong. The collective fighting force of our incipient allies...the MacKenzies, Bearkillers, Mount Angel, CORA and Corvallis...numbers seven, maybe eight thousand. They're outnumbered three-to-two as it is. While there are numerous precedents in history of a woefully outnumbered force defeating a substantially larger one...a few of which we ourselves have been a part...we don't believe the current state of affairs in western Oregon to be one of them.

“We, on the other hand, have one hundred eighty combatants. While we're technically outnumbered by a substantially worse margin, we have at our disposal the three greatest force-multipliers in the histories of at least two worlds...surprise, firewalkers, and magi. As you're all well and painfully aware, we've worked very hard to keep our existences a secret from the rest of the world. Tomorrow, that changes!”

There were murmurs of affirmation.

“At the moment, Arminger's artillery units are conducting remote bombardment of the Larsdalen wall. Chief Bearkiller Engineer Ken Larsson...who was, incidentally, an engineer before the Shift...is _very_ good at his job. Consequently, Arminger hasn't yet sent ground troops to storm the citadel, as it would put his men within range of Larsson's engines. He could send soldiers upslope to attack the lower uphill portion of wall, but the terrain is deceptively steep and any such attempt would be prohibitively costly. He may still try it from this saddle where Zena Road crosses the Eola Hills.” A corresponding light appeared. “We'll address that contingency. Otherwise, we expect his troops to engage what we're calling Allied forces outside the wall.

“In order of tactical significance, Protectorate forces are here...” He pointed to a light on the map. “...outside of Larsdalen and west of it where Zena Road crests the Eola Hills. Another much smaller force of about five hundred is holding Amity and tiny divisions of thirty to fifty...mostly crossbow and pike...are stationed at the main intersections, with other small detachments of light horse spreading out to hit the smaller Bearkiller homesteads and the like, most of which we expect to be temporarily abandoned.” Lights flared up to show those places on the map.

“We've spotted the MacKenzie war levies, along with a contingent of warriors from Mount Angel, traveling north along Brush College Road. We expect them to bypass the Protectorate forces cross-country and may have already joined the Bearkiller fighters outside the Larsdalen wall. They haven't engaged yet, but we don't expect that to last long...dawn tomorrow at the latest. There's been no sign of the Corvallans and we suspect they're hung up in one of those cumbersome committees of theirs.

“We don't expect CORA to figure into the equation at all. It's a two-day ride each way over Santiam and that's _without_ snow, let alone the time it would take to muster their fighters, giving what amounts to a one-week lead-time for them.

“We've already marked doors on various abandoned buildings and have set up some of Howl's mobile doors at other strategic locations that we'll use as entry points into the theater of operations. Those places are here...” More small pricks of light appeared. “...and I'll discuss them in turn.

“Our allies are presently outnumbered at least four-to-one and could easily be crushed. So we have to hit Portland hard and fast...keep them off-balance. As I said, timing is critical. We don't want to let our friends be slaughtered, but we don't want to be perceived as executing a preemptive strike.

“We'll move into position before first light tomorrow, remaining under deep cover. Once each of our groups passes through its respective door and has erased its marker, it must still travel overland to its designated deployment location. Some of this travel will take well over an hour, two in some cases.

“After the two armies have clashed for the first time, Eva will write a message in the sky with fire. Eva, I'll leave the wording up to you. The goal is to engender a response from Arminger...and knowing the sort of man he is, there is certain to be one. That gesture of aggression will be the response we need to justify our coordinated strikes. Neil, your command-and-control unit will be stationed here. Each group leader is to notify him via mirror using the Type-Three silent code. Neil, once you've received each leader's confirmation, you will let Eva know she may fire at will, as it were. It is critical that we all be in place before she creates her signal.” A light appeared atop a small knob rising above the northern shoulder of Zena Road across the little valley from Larsdalen.

“From there, you'll have line-of-sight over the battlefield. When you see a new surge of enemy movement onto the field following Eva's display...and Arminger is sure to give such an order...you'll tell Eva to give the next signal. At that point, we'll execute several strikes.

“Rapunzel, Thorin, Agatha, Thora, Karl, and I will ride out with our kairini and engage the enemy. At the same time, Wolfgang will lead an assault on the Protectorate contingent holding the gap over the hills. Hans, Johann and Frederick will each hit these intersections.” The points in question lit up on the map.

“Appolonia and Arinbjorn will lead an assault on the force holding Amity. Extinguish any fires before engaging the enemy. Arminger hadn't set fire to anything when last we looked. All indications are that he wants the entire Willamette Valley intact, but he's still angry, so I wouldn't put it past him to exact his twisted version of discipline. He may also have begun to move some of Amity's people north. Once you have broken and contained the enemy, return the town to its people, call for healers to treat their sick and wounded, and escort all prisoners of war to Larsdalen.

“Neil, when you see us engage the enemy line, wait five minutes, then give the second signal. At that point, Morgan and Markl will engage the enemy war engines here.” Another light appeared, marking engine battery locations. “You'll be covered by a dozen archers. Howl will engage the enemy line here. ” Another light appeared where Spring Valley Road crossed its creek at the eastern base of the Eola Hills.

“Eva, once Howl engages, you'll put up a fire-wall around most of the perimeter. We want it to be high enough to deter movement into or out of the areas of engagement, but not so high as to block our allies' views. Hold it long enough for Thora to erect her ice wall. 

“Thora, once you dismount, you will begin generating an ice wall. Like Eva's wall, yours will be high enough to contain the enemy, yet low enough to let our friends watch us work. I'll leave the embellishments up to you. 

"Within five to ten minutes, we expect the enemy to be good and ready to both bolt and surrender. We also expect our allies to be frozen by indecision, fearing reprisal from us should they try anything. Naturally, we have no intention of doing so, but they won't know that. We'll use that to keep them out of our way.

“We expect Arminger to be using gliders as a means to communicate remotely. We can use that, too. We want him to call in the remainder of his army, which is currently here.” A light appeared northeast of the intersection of Zena and Spring Valley Roads.

“Neil, when you see that happen, give the third signal. At that point, all other combatants will emerge from the trees on the fringes of the field and engage the enemy. As soon as you see that clash, give the fourth signal, which will be Sophia and Inga's cue to storm Arminger's command center...” A light appeared to mark the spot at the intersection of Zena Road and the one leading southward to Larsdalen. “...and capture him...and Sandra, if she's present. He's enough of a chauvinist that he'll be further humiliated by being captured by whom he thinks are two girls.” That was answered by a round of diffused chuckles.

“The farmstead there belongs to the Bearkillers,” added Rapunzel, “so let's avoid destroying the buildings. We will, of course, personally repair any damage we do during our operation. Because we started this fight...regardless of the fact that Arminger would have attacked within the week anyway...and as a gesture of goodwill, we'll also repair the damage done by the Protectorate.”

“Remember,” continued Eugene, “we want Portland intact just as much as Portland wants the rest of Oregon intact. So our goal is _shatter_ Arminger's army, not obliterate it...show them that resistance is utterly futile, as it were. Anyone who resists will be met with proportional force. Anyone who surrenders will be given quarter, taken prisoner, and treated as prisoners of war pursuant to the Shoshone Convention. Anyone who runs will be pursued and either captured or engaged. We don't have the numbers to spread ourselves out much, so we may have to hunt down some of the Portland soldiers later. All things being equal, we'd rather word of this not get back to Protectorate territory any sooner than need be. We don't want an uprising, or this will all have been in vain and we may as well have just settled south of the MacKenzies and kept to ourselves. On the other hand, if there _is_ an uprising, then at least the people of Portland will be free of the Armingers.

“Neil, when you see the battle winding down, give the mop-up signal and descend to the valley floor. The rest of you will then move in to see to the wounded, assist in prisoner detail, and to set up our temporary camp pending the move into Portland. We'll collect our portable doors on the way out. Those of you on the Amity mop-up detail may move in there earlier, as the situation there will likely be resolved much more quickly. Howl will then contact Suliman, who will send healers from New Ingary via Bifrost.”

“At this point,” said Rapunzel, “we, Rapunzel and Eugene, hereby release everyone present from their oaths of silence and association. Any of you who wish to take your leave may do so now. We apologize for holding you with us against your will. We hope you've seen for yourselves why we've felt compelled to enforce that. Continued silence is no longer necessary.”

At first, no one moved. Then one man stood. “Your Majesties...our friends...you yourselves know how much I've been griping about that. You know how many times I've tried to make a break for it. I speak for myself, for my family, and I hope for the rest of us, when I say that I've never liked what I've been calling 'house arrest,' and have rarely spared the breath to say so. But I've also come to see the sense of why you've made the decisions you have. More than that, though, every one of you has kept your word, defended us as your own and, in short, have more integrity in your little fingers than most people I've met have had in their whole bodies. Yeah, I've been a monumental pain in your collective a...uh...backsides. I'm sorry. It won't happen again. What I'm trying to say is...I'm in. Let's kick some tail!” Cheers followed as he sat down again. No one else moved.

“We're heartened, friends!” said Eugene. “We won't promise you won't regret it and we won't promise some of you won't die. We do, however, promise glory and that your actions will help launch a new era of civilization. Any questions?” He waited for a minute. There were none, which didn't surprise him, as they'd not only gone over the plan already, but they'd all jointly developed it from a number of possible scenarios and everyone had given some valuable input with regard to their own strengths and weaknesses. “Then let's go steal us a kingdom!” he said with a grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Willow Creek Reservoir is east of Madras and northwest of Prineville.


	4. Of Queens and Nations

Larsdalen  
March 10, CY 9, 2021 AD

“Did he really say that?” said Ken Larsson.

“Yes,” said Rapunzel, “yes he did.”

Ken groaned.

“Next,” said Sophia, looking at the tablet. “Castle Todenangst.”

“We're renaming it,” said Rapunzel.

“You can do that?” said Chuck.

“Why not? It's our castle. We can rename it if we want.”

“And Castle Death-Anguish?” said Sophia. “Ugh! Seriously?”

“Death-Anguish?” said Signe. “Is that what it means?”

“Yes.”

“We need something...cheerier,” said Rapunzel.

“No sh...aving cream,” said Signe.

“I still think it should be 'Sparkle-Pony,'” said Sophia.

“What?!” said Astrid. “You're going to name a castle 'Sparkle-Pony?' You're not serious.”

“Why not?” said Sophia with a shrug.

“I like it,” said Mary.

“Honey,” said Mike, “you're eight.”

“So? I still like it.”

“Besides,” said Sophia, “have you seen that thing in full sunlight? It _does_ sparkle.”

“In addition,” said Eugene, “so much work and material...and life-blood..has gone into it, it wouldn't make sense to demolish it like we'll do to some of the others.”

“You're going to...demolish castles?” said Juniper. She wasn't sure she was hearing that.

Eugene shrugged. “We don't need them. Arminger built them for military purposes. Since we don't aim to conquer you...our neighbors...our friends...they're completely moot.”

“Any objections?” said Sophia.

“Well,” said Peter, “I'm not sure about that proposed name of yours, but I guess anything's better than the one it has.”

“So noted,” said Sophia.

“Do you think you can do all that?” said Mike. “Walk in and just have everyone fall into line?”

“Those who make peaceful revolution impossible,” said Eugene, “will make violent revolution inevitable.”

“And just which kind,” said Dmowski, “do you intend to have happen in Portland?”

“Neither,” said Rapunzel. “We aim to make revolution of any kind wholly unnecessary.”

“Do you now?”

“We do.”

“So people should not fear their governments, governments should fear their people.”

“No.”

“So you do intend to set up a totalitarian regime?”

“No. I think you may be missing our point. We believe both people and their governments should have a mutual respect for each other.”

“How do you know it will work?”

“Because we've done it before and quite successfully. I'll expound once we've covered everything else.”

“Everything _else_?”

Rapunzel smiled. Just then, something inside Lonyali's jacket chirped. She rolled her eyes slightly, then undid the clasps securing the large front flap of her jacket and pulled out a small rectangular object. She loosened a drawstring and removed something metallic. She tapped the edge in some pattern and said something. A voice came from it.

Ken jumped to his feet. “It's back!”

“Please sit down, Mister Larsson,” said Rapunzel patiently.

“But...”

“She has a goddam SmartPhone!” exclaimed Mike, half-rising out of his own chair.

Rapunzel cocked an eyebrow at him. “Really, Mister Havel. And no, it's not a SmartPhone. Those don't work, remember?”

“But...” repeated Ken.

“But what, Mister Larsson?”

He just pointed at it.

“Alright,” said Chuck, “then just what, by the Horned Lord, _is_ that?”

“It's a mirror,” said Howl.

“A mirror?!” said Ken.

“A magic mirror, to be precise.”

“Oh, for cryin' out loud,” said Mike.

“Do you have a problem with that?” said Howl.

“Uh...nuts, I got nothin'.”

“We mean to share that with you all as well.”

“You do?” said Astrid excitedly. She was already sitting bolt-upright in her chair and Juniper was sure that if the young woman were to go even more bolt-upright, her torso might fly right off of the rest of her.

Howl grinned. “And that's just the beginning. But I'm getting ahead of myself again.”

“Indeed,” said Rapunzel. “Let's allow her Ingarian Majesty to finish her conversation. That's only polite.”

“And,” added Sophia, “it should determine our next topic of discussion.”

Lonyali continued exchanging words with the metallic object, apparently oblivious to Ken's outburst. After a few minutes, she tapped it again, put it back into its pouch and returned it to her jacket, then turned to Rapunzel. “Kapla!” she exclaimed.

Rapunzel's face lit up and she responded in Ingarian. Grins spread from face to face around the Coronan side of the room. A few tears started to flow and Juniper was intensely interested in what had just transpired.

Lonyali rose to her feet and hugged her companion. Then she took a step toward Sophie and Lettie, motioning them to approach. The two other women seemed reluctant, but they approached anyway, Lonyali meeting them halfway. She gave each of them and Mala a hug before returning to her seat. She remained standing, however, as though she intended to address the assembly.

“How wonderful!” exclaimed Rapunzel. “We now have new neighbors to the south! Ya-Lonyali-Rana?”

Lonyali gave Rapunzel a curt nod and began to speak. Juniper didn't understand the language, but Gareth translated. Juniper paid attention. If, as Rapunzel seemed to be suggesting, Lonyali's people were moving into the area, then it made sense to at least make an effort to deal with the language barrier. Now seemed as good a time as any to start learning.

“Yashamori as-Rth,” people of Earth, she began, “thes wrani llomshu, miasshamori refugham tinshufren. Thuyolanui soarvim osu refugham shufrang, thuyolanui timuyolanmr qerl tillors shumaitar llegit socorla. Sho nonmusiul. Assushufrash refugham litras tlal. Assunaquarshon timudumqaraten we elem timuhuerlangatumen.” Fifteen years ago, my people passed through fire. You have sayings about passing through fire, sayings which tell us you believe that one is stronger because of it. We are not so sure. Our passage through fire was quite literal. Our own ordeal devastated us and nearly wiped us out of existence.

“Qerl thusoasurlor tifenithna kan Tielnmarna soshopa. Nonsah. Thumuasurlor tifenithna...asuralin huerlangatumna. Tinmiyolan qerl wolhanen, qerl resentan etna tiliwanarn. Lordaln tiliwanen we timusarpanonen. Musom tosourlor rilios mumanathen.” You think your world ended when it Shifted. That is not so. Our world did end...wiped out of the heavens. They tell me it was inevitable, that it was supposed to happen in two centuries. It came early and caught us off-guard. Some of us managed to escape to your world.

“Onwal hin, toternal kitan asors mufin. Tel telnalar shamoriors asshalirin suyolanaln. Siri qerl nekrat musoweran womupersad, qerl thuiklon nonbelthek muthelo sel, narkhonorsi, na-Pentagon-ors ethid, narwotinmuloris. Anthi totenebash momenoen, toolen as-Alaska umlehang.” Once here, we lived in great fear of you. We were told how fearful your people are of beings from other worlds. Even if we were to convince you that we mean no harm, that we only wish for a place to live unmolested, your governments, your Pentagon in particular, were unlikely to ever leave us alone. And so we remained in hiding, cowering on an island of what you call Alaska.

“Nalenalak tothamenith asshamoriim nonwolnel. Nahifer fris we dama. Naseke lerm we frus. Nathandon dama, nasielin liath, namolin, naglish, nasnukht, todulagar tisolurg. Nabrethelen tidulken. Womuthitefa mudunmaruem, nawolar wotinokhilen. Nameloum blig we Namemarthanis abebasshu. Nashamoriim khailoshlak tinsesam.” Life there has not been kind to the remnant of my people. Winter is cold and long. Summer is short and cool. The long dark, the grey skies, the rain, the ice, the snow, all plunged us into depression. Our birth rate dropped. Were we of a mind to take our own lives, many would have done so. Our future is bleak and our survival very uncertain. My people stand upon the edge of a blade.

“Kan Na-Rth Tielnmaren, toshamoriors thusimfora. Nonfi suamras. Fos thuelimis timuthimoen qerl thullomerin werili lluwuarfim we thuiklonen nu lluwuarfim, gotridikumshu.” When Earth Shifted, it was a disaster for your people. Of that there is no doubt. Yet it gave us hope that we might have what you call breathing room and that we might have a new home, one that is more to our liking.

“Ya-Rapunzela-Rana we ya-Eugene-Ranon, gohi thusoith tokielimis sothimona. Nasethii qerl toprosthoki asiklonen nu, asiklonen prepen, mugenoen tithaflumalaln. Thuberith arfad shumarlak as-Makensi we as-Wilamet tofonsli soirar we siarar we toagiri mubleporuen. Tel gelanaseng. Fuwal midil, thushanli toberis mumetak tomenothlurs tatiulmu.” Queen Rapunzel and King Eugene, today you have given life to that hope. The plans we have lain in anticipation of a new home, a proper home, will be given form. We have already reconnoitered the entire region from the confluence of the Rivers MacKenzie and Willamette to its eastern and southern headwaters and to the coast. It is as promised. Even as I speak, we are moving people into the area to prepare it for the rest of us.

“Deln kalai adlm, thudugl kitan muarfimal okhil. Thuepafi kitan toso muarfim nonsomuthomir leln kiepam. Thuwathr qerl Ushin sotiliwin we thuwathrli otr grioshlak nu mothar tiatogal. Thuothosi we thugefri we thuothosi asirun mothar tidehis. Thupethii muthar tiobar we thubarmi tienwalm telsh nashamoriimi we nabeshlaum thutila llutinarfim. Theferashas we thugoirim muthar arhis. Thuwathlonum muthomir delasaln rom molinorsi asplianm.” In the months to come, we will have much work to do. Do not expect us to have much contact with you during that time. We must rebuild the city you call Eugene and the other towns within our new territory. We must repair roads, bridges, and rails. We must work the fields and plant crops so that my people and our livestock may have food. We must begin breeding and hatching. We expect our relocation to be complete before your autumn rains come.

“Mela kiupam, musogaloal thuseluraurs skiar. Fi thuligan lurm mulurisinna todamashu. Kamen to-Corona we tokidom elo tel tiagnatash muletanal. Thueolasum wuskiaral. Lem sobaranem nashamoriim thuithai tinanteshal. Nonmuweran sobronsh. Il thufirin qerl namarthanisum ditha tokawonu aspethathaum tiabrath tul tokawonu assoraumi.” After that time, we will invite you all to share in our celebration. This is a day of which we have dreamed for too long. We will also work with Corona and whomever else has a mind to do so. We will share what we know. But be advised that my people will be resistant to adopting your ideas. We do not mean to offend you. The truth is that our survival depends as much on the preservation of our culture as it does upon the preservation of our bodies.

“Il thuelimisum qerl toso lluwuletan thubethanon thorshaar thafarit lurm Rapunzela-Rana tidilna. Fenloku, Gareth-Lomon...” It is our hope that we might work with all of you to bring about the glorious civilization of which Queen Rapunzel has spoken. To that end, Master Gareth...

Then she said something that Gareth didn't translate. Instead, he knelt in front of her. She extended her hands palms down and he placed his own beneath hers. They exchanged a few words, the cadence of which sounded somewhat ceremonial. Then Gareth stood up and resumed his place.

“Queen Lonyali has formally installed me as her official ambassador to Ingary's neighbors.”

“Out of curiosity,” said Ken, “how many people are you moving?”

“Three hundred fifty-seven thousand,” translated Gareth.

Juniper nearly spluttered. “What?! Gareth...are you sure you heard that correctly?”

“Yes,” said Gareth.

“Really?” said Astrid.

“That's correct,” said Howl.

“That's...” said Juniper, “that's larger than the entire pre-Change population of Lane County! That's remarkable!”

“No so much, no,” said Howl.

“Why not?”

“Because Ingary had three _billion_ people living on it.”

A dead silence fell over all those assembled.

“Oh, my God,” whispered Signe at last.

Juniper closed her eyes. “Goddess gentle and strong,” she breathed.

“When Queen Lonyali,” said Eugene, “said things look bleak for her people, she was not exaggerating. Like she said, we only _think_ our world ended. Theirs literally did.”

“What...” said Signe, “what happened?”

“Ingary,” said Howl, “was destroyed by a supernova. There were four other inhabited planets within the blast zone. To our knowledge, none of them made it off of their own worlds. The estimated overall death toll stands at around eight billion.”

Another hush fell over those assembled. Dmowski made the sign of the cross. Tears rose up in the eyes of most of those of the Allied delegation.

“Mubenthuna,” said Lonyali. “Qerl thulipium soskiar tientharnaln filas. Qerl munesaghang fosofilas. Killegit maitarshu llumuelere. Naurlorim thufuthi tiarfimen. Thuwonar larm nashamoriors tinginor. Nonmoegsula. Nashamoriimi assom to-Howl-Lomon tinkonaleng we dean to-Rapunzela-Rana we to-Ushin-Ran. Qerl nashamoriim we naors aranshu tshon egsula tindil. Qerl tinshertu miarhis blepu.” We have all mourned. It comforts me to know that you share our pain. Know that we are healing. We may yet be stronger because of this. My world had its problems. Many of them are ones with which your people are familiar. We are not so different. Some of my people have been living with Master Howl and later with Queen Rapunzel and King Eugene. They say that my people and yours are more alike than we are different. I begin to see that they are correct.

Eric suddenly jerked a little. “Whoa, hold on. Did you just say,” he said slowly, “that they, the Ingarians, are...from up there?” He pointed toward the ceiling.

“Yes,” said Rapunzel.

“They're aliens?!” said Astrid.

“Precisely. Ingary was in orbit around a main-sequence star that they called Lirosh. Lirosh was, in turn, in orbit around a red supergiant they called Krakanen. We call that star Betelgeuse.”

“You're joking,” said Ken.

“Not at all,” said Howl.

Eric raised his hand in the Vulcan sign for 'live long and prosper.' “We come in peace,” he said.

Rapunzel raised an eyebrow. Howl did a slow-motion face-palm and groaned under his breath.

Signe leaned over to her brother. “Eric, your nerd is showing.”

Sophie's eyes narrowed. She stalked over to Eric, crossed her arms and peered down at him. “Is that what you think of us?”

“Uh,” said Eric, lowering his hand. “sorry? I guess this isn't how I ever imaged a...aw, crap, I guess it's _not_ first contact.”

“Not even remotely,” said Howl, as Sophie turned around and retreated to her own place.

“Second contact?” said Eric hopefully.

“Wrong again. The truth is that Ingarians have been visiting Earth for thousands of years. Sophie and I are the first couple in recorded history to marry. And we have three beautiful children. Neil's married to Sophie's cousin and they have two children and my niece Mari is engaged to an Ingarian.”

“And let's not forget George Lucas,” said Signe, barely restraining her sarcasm.

“That would explain a few things,” said Ken.

“That's awesome!” said Erik.

“And,” said Mike, “the former Lane County is going to be full of you?”

Sophie crossed her arms and glared at Mike. “Do you have a problem with us, Lord Bear?”

“Uh...not really. But...aliens?”

“Come on, Mike,” said Eric, “they're aliens! Do you have any idea how cool this is?”

“How do we know that?” said Aaron. “They...you...Sophie and company...look human to me.”

Sophie smiled and batted her eyebrows. “That is what _you_ think.”

Lonyali said something to her male companion. He nodded, then began to unfasten his jacket.

“What's he doing?” said Aaron.

“Demonstrating a little external anatomy,” said Neil.

The Ingarian man neatly shed his jacket, then held it in one hand while presenting his elbow. A large bony horn, aligned with the lower arm, protruded from it. The tendon and muscle structure was obviously different from a human elbow and wrapped visibly around the horn.

“That's in addition to the dew-claws you've seen on Mala,” said Neil. “All Ingarians have both, although both features are larger and more conspicuous on males. You may also have noticed that their eyes are slightly larger than ours. And that's just on the outside.” He said something to the man, who then donned his jacket.

“Whoa,” said Eric. “Just...whoa.”

“So,” said Peter, “I guess it's not classified anymore, right?”

Mike looked at Peter. “It sounds like you knew about this.”

“Well...yeah. They told me and Liz about it when we were camped at the Washington Ponds up on the PCT. But they said it was classified and we've honored that.”

“You're quite right,” said Rapunzel. “It's no longer classified.”

“So,” said Ken, “these three hundred fifty thousand...aliens...where are they now?”

“Kupreanof Island,” said Howl.

“We've been hearing stories about that place,” said Astrid, “from captured Haida raiders. They're scared to death of it.”

“Mage warriors are very dangerous,” said Howl.

“More dangerous than you?” said Mike.

“No,” said Rapunzel. “I'm the most dangerous person in the world.”

Mike raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, that's okay, Mother,” said Sophia. “We love you anyway.” She tittered briefly. There seemed to be some sort of inside joke revolving around that.

“It's a good thing she's cute, too,” said Eugene. Rapunzel rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, anyway,” said Ken, turning his attention to Lonyali, “how are you going to move more than three hundred _thousand_ people down here by the end of September?”

Lonyali simply smiled broadly. Juniper wasn't sure how to interpret that.

“They'll use the Bifrost Junior.”

“Bifrost... _Junior_?” said Ken.

“My smaller prototype,” said Howl. Ken frowned and Howl continued. “I...uh...well, a while ago, I got lost,” he said, shuffling his feet nervously. Whatever it was bothered him.

“He wound up on Asgard,” said Megan.

“Where?” said Mike.

“Asgard. It's...”

“It's at the other and of the Galactic Bar, alright?” said Howl. He exhaled heavily. Why did it bother him so much? “The point is, I wound up on Asgard and copied their Bifrost technology. We used it to get people off of Ingary and we'll use it to move the remnant from Kupreanof Island to their new home.”

“Ya-Lonyali-Rana,” said Eugene, “the hour will be late when we have finished here. Are you prepared to spend the night?”

Lonyali nodded. “Ai,” she said.

Rapunzel turned to Mike. “Mike, I don't suppose we may impose upon you to house Queen Lonyali, her personnel, and their animals for a night? Come nightfall, they won't be able to fly well and it's a long way back to what used to be called the Eugene Airport. They don't need much, just some shelter.”

“Uh,” said Mike, “I guess so. How much space do those...um...things need?”

Gareth held a short discussion with Lonyali. “There's a large building across the way that should do,” he said.

“That would be the St. Innocent Winery. The main warehouse isn't used much this time of year. I'll have to ask the owner, but I think I can convince him.”

“Thank-you,” said Rapunzel.

“So,” said Juniper, “magic, mermaids, and aliens. What's next?”

Sophia smiled. “Master Howl?”

“Whomever orchestrated the Shift,” said Howl, “meant to deprive us of high-energy technology. We don't know how or why, but we do know what. Therefore, we intend to cheat. We mean to introduce positronic, dark-energy, and magical technologies. Now, we won't really be able to duplicate everything we had before the Shift. Some of that is permanently gone. Some of what we'll have will meet the functions of some of our pre-Shift technology and some will be the stuff of myth and legend.

“Here on Earth, magic use is very rare. On Ingary, it's fairly common, though few people have historically been trained. That changed after their exodus. They realized they needed to train more magi in order to survive. I intend to do the same.” He looked straight at Juniper. “Beginning with you.”

Juniper blinked. “Me?”

“Yes.”

“I...I'm not sure I understand.”

“Have you ever done things...or felt things...that you couldn't explain? Or maybe just thought you could? And be honest. Trust me, there's no answer you can give that we would ever construe as silly.”

Juniper frowned pensively. “Well...I sometimes feel the presence of the Goddess...or the Dark One. And there are the visions.”

Howl smiled. “You're a maga.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“That's the feminine form of 'mage.'”

“I'm a witch, yes, if that's what you mean.”

“No,” said Howl, shaking his head slightly, “that's not what I mean. A witch and a maga are two entirely different things. You have the capacity to wield magic. You have great power. Not nearly as great as me, mind you...” Sophie elbowed Howl in the ribs, momentarily silencing him. So Juniper was right—Howl _did_ have an arrogant streak and there was little doubt in her mind who was responsible for quelling it. It made her smile. Howl continued. “I've been without an apprentice for a while and I'd like you to consider it.”

“You...want me to study magic?”

Howl nodded.

“We realize,” said Rapunzel, “that doing so would impinge significantly upon your job as Queen, but...”

“Oh, sorry,” said Juniper, shaking her head. “I'm not a queen.”

“How much authority do you wield among your people?”

“All of it,” said Chuck. Juniper shot him a glance, but hesitated with her own answer. She had to concede that Chuck was right—MacKenzies generally did whatever she told them to do, even if it sometimes took some convincing.

“Well?” said Rapunzel.

“I'm Chief of the Clan by the Clan's choice.”

“Chief...Queen...Empress...President...Boss...” Rapunzel nodded to Mike as she said that last word and Juniper was sure she saw him squirm at the clear implication. “...all different names for what is essentially the same job. There is, of course, some variation on the prescribed powers, transfer of that power from one person to the next, the details of the politics, and so forth. But it's all really the same thing when you get right down to it.”

“But I wasn't born in charge of anything,” Juniper protested.

Rapunzel shrugged. “Neither was I. Nor was Eugene. Don't get me wrong, my parents were a king and queen, which is why I'm Queen. Otherwise, it's a long story. We all start out kicking and screaming and fussing. Granted, some people stay that way, but the point is that we become who and what we are and not always by our own volition. You don't have to want to be a queen, but a queen you are anyway.”

Juniper hadn't quite thought of it that way. And was she really a...a maga? “I'll...have to think about it. That's the best answer I can give right now.”

“Fair enough,” said Howl. “When you're ready to discuss it further, you can find me either at the University of Corona School of Magic or at the offices of the Corona Ministry of Magic. If I'm not in, sit tight and I'll be along shortly. I'll be assisting my cohort Suliman in setting up the University of Ingary's School of Magic as well.” He smirked. “Being the most powerful mage in the world makes one a very busy man.” Juniper caught Sophie rolling her eyes.

“Anyway,” said Howl, “positronics can be used for things like artificial lighting...though a have a working prototype involving certain bioluminescent fungi, so we'll be able to tap into some biotech, too...uh, simple small motors, that sort of thing. While we should be able to produce something resembling a communications network using positronics, this...” He pulled a mirror from his pocket. “...is far superior. It's like the one Lonyali-Rana was using earlier. In function, it's like a Farnsworth.”

“Cool!” said Eric.

“Indeed,” said Howl with a smile. “But there are things electricity did that we'll never get back. This mirror...” He wiggled it. “...is magical technology.”

“Isn't that an oxymoron?” said Ken.

“Not at all. It's a little hard to explain, though much of it hinges on energy source and the means of its manipulation. What's important is that there are certain tools that operate with magic. One of its limitations, however, is that most of it requires bio-input. That is, unlike steam or electric-powered devices, someone has to be there to operate it. That's why we need to identify more magi and train them. It's all going to be very exciting!”

“You all keep saying 'shift,'” said Ken. “What do you mean by that?”

“Most people we've met,” said Rapunzel, “call what happened 'the Change.' Our lives have been one change after another. We find that to be inaccurate, myopic, and downright ridiculous. I called it the 'Cooling' until I learned what actually happened. Philip and Syrena's people call it the 'Quieting' owing to the sudden cessation of motorized water vessels.” She looked at Howl.

“We know,” said Howl, “why electricity, explosives, and high gas pressure don't work.” He paused. Juniper felt herself leaning forward in anticipation and she sensed her friends doing the same. “Earth is out of phase.”

“Out of phase?” said Ken. “I have an engineering degree and I don't know what that means.”

“Don't worry,” said Eugene, “I hold three doctorate degrees in physics and I barely understand it.”

“It's quite complicated,” said Howl, “but the short answer is that Earth does not completely occupy the normal three dimensions of space. Therefore, the laws of physics operate a little differently. In truth, the planet's not out of phase by very much, but it's enough.”

“Do you know how it got that way?” said Ken.

“Yes. Whomever orchestrated it siphoned off energy during Krakanen's explosion and used that energy to push Earth out of phase. We're still not sure who did it, nor do we know why, but we're pretty sure the answer lies somewhere on Nantucket Island.”

“That was my conclusion as well,” said Ken, “that someone's behind the Change...Shift...I mean. Not that it's out of phase.”

“We're planning to mount an expedition there at some point,” said Eugene.

“We tried to approach the island early in the second year,” said Gareth, “but...we were repelled. That was before we met up with Rapunzel and company. We think they might have more success. Otherwise, we'll know more should we succeed in landing there.”

“Can you put Earth back _into_ phase?” said Ken.

“No,” said Howl. “Doing so would require not only a mind-boggling amount of energy, but a frightening amount of control over it. I may be the most powerful mage in the world but, as my wife is ever so fond of reminding me, I'm not a god. Among us, only our dear Rapunzel possesses phenomenal cosmic power and hers is not of the kind needed to manipulate that much energy in that way.”

“So we're stuck like this?”

“Yes.”

“Damn.”

“Were we,” said Rapunzel, “really any better off with cell phones, YouTube, and ATMs? Did any of those things, or all the other technological contrivances generally called progress, really make our lives any better? Or did they just distract us and detract _from_ us?”

Juniper and her people looked back and forth at each other and shrugged.

“Are there any questions?” said Rapunzel.

Abbott Dmowski raised his hand. “I do have one...well, one that's relevant, that is. This is all well and good...if not fantastical...but why drag us into your fight? And why fight at all? If you wanted Portland, could you not have...acquired it peacefully? Then you could have shared all of this with us later without all the bloodshed.”

“You have a very good point, your Excellency,” said Rapunzel, “and we certainly considered that as an option. We decided on swift action for a variety of reasons. First, from everything we'd observed, things had gone very bad very quickly and there was no sign of improvement. We've seen that before. Conducting a long-term undermining campaign, while potentially successful in overthrowing Arminger, would not necessarily have given us control, nor would it have guaranteed any better people coming to power. It would also have meant continued damage and continued metaphorical bleeding.”

“From a military perspective,” said Eugene, “attacking the Protectorate directly would have been disastrous. It would have been a war of attrition from the onset. The more we'd whittle away at his territory, the more desperate he would have become. He is...was...not the kind of man who would have hesitated to use civilian shields in an attempt to compel us to withdraw, nor would he have played fairly. The collateral damage would have been downright stomach-churning.

“He was going to attack anyway. All the signs were there. We also knew he was an armchair general, but we needed to force him out of his comfort zone. We merely manipulated him into doing it on our terms.”

“Furthermore,” said Rapunzel, “it was necessary to go public, you might say. We knew no one would believe us without a dramatic and very public demonstration. Brining all of the Valley's major powers together in one place allowed us to do that and seize Portland at the same time.”

“How'd you do that, anyway?” said Mike. “Arminger isn't...wasn't...easy to manipulate.”

“When Sophia and I visited,” said Rapunzel, “we made him angry. It was all very calculated.”

“And while he was angry,” said Sophia, “I destroyed certain synaptic pathways so that it would be physiologically impossible for him to calm down.”

“You did _what_?” said Aaron.

“Essentially, I fried his brain. We have very tight control.”

“And just,” said Erik, “ _how_ did you fry Arminger's brain?”

Rapunzel smiled, a sort of predatory grin that gave Juniper pause. “I carry a shard of supernova ejecta.”

“Where?” said Ken, making little apparent effort to hide his incredulity. “In your pocket?”

“No,” said Rapunzel. “In my quantum mattergetic matrix. It's attached to me, is one with me, and occupies separate dimensions of space.”

“Uh-huh,” said Ken dubiously.

“She's right,” said Peter. “I've seen it.”

“You've what?” said Ken.

“I've seen it,” said Peter. “She showed it to us in the High Sierra.”

“What does it look like?”

“Like this,” said Howl. He waved a hand and the room went dim. He waved both hands again and a large, irregular orb appeared in midair. It was vaguely red-orange, with darker speckles all over it and dark orange bits sticking out of it and a few other purple-ish bits here and there.

“What in the world is that?” said Ken.

“We call it Sun-blood,” said Rapunzel.

“It's more impressive in person,” said Howl.

“It also moves,” said Peter, “and makes deep, malevolent growling sounds...and starts ripping up the trees and melting the rocks.”

“You're not serious,” said Ken.

“It's quite something.” He looked at Rapunzel. “Could you...take it out?”

“Well,” said Rapunzel, “I could, but that would be a very bad idea. The last time I did it, that time in the Sierra, I almost couldn't put it back into its own phase. While I'm a lot more powerful now, so is it. If I were to take it out, it would instantly incinerate everything within a half-mile, flash-evaporate all the water within several miles, then slip out of my control, pop back into this phase, and rip the planet apart.”

“I guess,” said Peter, “that peace-bonding in Corvallis would be kind of pointless.”

“Yes. And keep in mind that I melted the castle at Woodburn...without touching it.”

Peter whistled.

“How do you melt concrete?” said Ken.

“Really, Mister Larsson? Surely you know anything will melt if it's hot enough.”

“But those things are mostly calcium carbonate.”

“Yes,” said Rapunzel. “They are.”

“You'd have to get that over two thousand degrees.”

“Yes...a bit over twenty-four hundred. And I did. Actually, I took it up to around three thousand, just for good measure.”

Howl waved a hand and the image vanished and the room brightened.

“That's so cool!” said Erik. “How'd it happen and can I have some, too?”

“I don't really know how it happened,” said Rapunzel. "Otherwise, it's a long story. In any case, you really don't want it. It's kind of a pain.”

“Why?”

“First of all, it altered my physiology. I have a body temperature of a hundred and twelve point four. That means my metabolism is a raging inferno. Even if I do nothing all day but sit and read or knit, I still have to eat four thousand calories. Trust me, being us isn't easy.”

“Are you saying,” said Ken, “that you have plasma in your soul and it's burning you alive?”

“Sort of. I have pieces of three stars bound up within me...Sol, Betelgeuse, and Lirosh. They make what I do possible.”

“And you say we don't have to be afraid of you,” said Mike.

“You don't,” said Rapunzel, “unless you're pricks, or you threaten my family...neither of which is the case.”

“And how do we really know you won't try to take us over, too?” said Dmowsky. “Arminger wanted us, after all.”

“We're not Arminger,” said Rapunzel. “He wanted the rest of the valley because he was power-hungry. Ostensibly, we gathered that the purported reason had something to do with agricultural land. But let us show you something. Master Howl?”

The room went dark and a map of northwestern Oregon appeared in mid-space.

“This is our territory,” said Rapunzel. The region of the former protectorate lit up in yellow. “This, according to our thermal scans, cross-referenced with geopolitical and topographical maps, is the land currently under cultivation.” Very small, and disjoined areas lit up in red. “This is the total arable land.” Other areas, many times the size of the red areas, lit up in orange. “That land could have fed the entire pre-Shift population of Oregon. To say that he wanted more agricultural land is complete nonsense.”

“How do you know all of this?” said Ken.

Rapunzel paused. “What we are about to tell you must not leave this room. It is our most closely-guarded secret. Few not so burdened really understand.” She looked at Peter. “Major Jones, the other reason we want to work with you, and trust me, this is going somewhere, is that we're related.”

“We are?” said Peter.

“Yes. Your fifteen-greats grandmother, and your wife's thirteen-greats grandmother, was my little sister. My mother was pregnant with her when you caught up with us at Belknap Crater.”

Peter's eyes widened. “I'm married to my cousin?!” He tilted his head back and gazed up at the ceiling. “I am never having sex with her again.”

“Oh, don't be so dramatic. My parents were first cousins. So were Victoria and Albert. My son married my mother's sister's daughter. It's not a big deal. And you two have roughly fourteen generations and three hundred eighty years of removal between you anyway. What's changed, besides that now you know you're distantly related?”

Peter blinked. “Nothing?”

“Precisely.”

“Now I'm really confused,” said Ken. “How can you...” He nodded to Peter. “...be a descendant of your...” He nodded to Rapunzel. “...sister, especially when none of you is remotely old enough?”

Rapunzel smiled knowingly. There was something behind it that gave Juniper pause, but she wasn't sure why. “When Peter and I met on the trail,” said Rapunzel, “in two thousand eleven, Eugene, my parents, and I had, with Howl's help, come here from the year sixteen-oh-three.” She paused, ostensibly to let it sink it. Time travel? thought Juniper. Was that possible?

“So,” said Peter, “your parents went back to your own time and you stayed and got stuck. Bummer.”

“No,” said Rapunzel. “We all went back.”

“And then?” said Ken.

“And then history happened.”

“I still don't get it.”

Rapunzel peered at him for several moments. “The upshot is that Eugene and I are the second and third oldest people in this room, followed shortly by Sophia and then Philip.” She exchanged nods with the merman in the tub.

“What?!” said Ken.

“I was born in fifteen eighty-two, Eugene five years earlier. I stepped up as Queen of Corona in sixteen forty-five. We reigned together for two hundred and twenty-five years until Corona was swallowed by Prussia in eighteen seventy. After that time, we wandered the world, finally settling outside of Trevelin, Argentina, in nineteen sixy-two. We've had more than two centuries successfully running a country...” Her eyes narrowed. “...which we would still be doing if _some_ people in Europe hadn't shoved gherkins so far up their backsides so as to be tasting them the other way.” Her tone held a surprising amount of vitriol and Juniper suspected that both Royals had spent years trying to convince their fellow rulers in Europe to be more sensible. She was suddenly aware that she actually believed the Queen, remarkable though her claim was.

“That,” said Eugene, “is how we know Arminger's type and what he planned to do. That is how we knew yesterday's military operation would work. That is how we know our forthcoming kingdom will be successful. We've had four hundred years of working with people and observing them. It's been said that one should learn from the mistakes of others, since one cannot possibly live long enough to make them all oneself. We _have_ lived long enough to make most of them and we've lived long enough to have overcome our own arrogance. We've been through it all and have seen it all...or enough of it, anyway. We're what happens when one acquires old age and treachery while still retaining youth and skill. Let me tell you, though, evading questions about our longevity was a first-rate pain in the neck. As saddened as we were about the fall of Corona, it was almost a relief.”

“You're immortal?” said Juniper.

“So far,” said Rapunzel, “yes.”

“Oh, that's just not fair!” said Ken.

“Not for us, no,” said Rapunzel. “We've seen and done things that no one should. It's only through a mind-boggling amount of mental and physical discipline that we've managed to maintain our sanity. I'm sure you've all heard of a man named Adolf Hitler?”

Most of the Allies in the room nodded, except for Mary who was too young to have learned about that.

“That wasn't his real name...and he was our son. He created what is arguably the greatest cover-up conspiracy in history.”

“It was really quite impressive,” said Eugene.

“He talked of his Third Reich,” said Rapunzel, “lasting for a thousand years and he would have personally ruled it for that long. But he had become too dangerous, as I'm sure you know from your history. So I...I had to...” She broke off with some visible effort.

“We had to kill him,” said Eugene, his own voice tense.

“We made it look like suicide,” said Sophia.

“I don't understand,” said Juniper. “Assuming what you say is true, are we to understand that you let that man exterminate several million people and ravage Europe?”

“That was,” said Sophia, “one of our many mistakes...and undoubtedly our most expensive and embarrassing one. Could we have done what we did sooner? Possibly. But it was...” She glanced at Rapunzel. “...complicated...and highly personal. Imagine what you would do had one of your children gone evil. Or what if Norman Arminger had been a brother to one of you...or a son? The answer won't be the same for everyone, but it's not a simple one...especially not when we've seen as much history and possibility as we have. We could literally spend all day giving what would amount to a university-level lecture just on our relations with Germany's Third Reich. I've had seventy-three siblings. Ten are still alive.”

“So you see,” said Eugene, “that immortality is not all it's purported to be. It's far more of a curse, when you think about it.”

“And getting old, stiff, arthritic, and senile isn't?”

“I'll grant you that.”

“We had to watch,” said Rapunzel, “as my little sister, born five minutes before Sophia, grew old. After a while, she could have passed for my grandmother, while I remained as you see me now. We watched our children watch their own spouses grow old and die...and their children did the same.”

“We watched,” said Eugene, “nations grow, take up arms against one other, and shatter under the guns of war.”

“We watched,” said Sophia, “your American Revolution, the French and Russian Revolutions, your Civil War. We saw the coming of the Industrial Revolution and the birth of the Digital Age.”

“So you see,” said Eugene, “that if people truly understood immortality, no one would be able to pay anyone else to take it. You wouldn't be able to force it at the tip of a sword.” He looked at Mary. “I'm very sorry, Miss Mary. It's a heavy price to pay for saving your life. We're told, however, that mer-folk possess unique brain architecture, which makes it much easier for your souls to deal with the burden of immortality.”

“However,” said Sophia, “we've seen the best and worst of the world's civilizations. We've seen what's worked, what hasn't worked where, how, and why. That's led to much speculation on what might constitute the ideal government. We've spent centuries building that, mainly on paper, mind you. What we have...” She pulled a thin sheaf of what looked like parchment out of her satchel. “...is our Constitution. It's part codified law, borrowing from Hammurabi, the Magna Carta, the US Constitution, among others, but incorporating our collective observation while allowing room for us to exercise our unique skills. We know, both from the sheer amount of experience we have, as well as from being FireWalkers, how to cut through the nonsense. One doesn't survive for four hundred years, let alone run a country for as long as we did, without learning how to do that. It's been more than a century since any of us has seen any new way that a person can be dishonest toward another.”

“We've studied nearly everything there is to study,” said Eugene. “We know every major martial art, both west and east. Psychology, politics, economics, natural resources, all the sciences, anthropology, linguistics, agronomy, survival skills, the list goes on and on. Most of us are fluent in every major language on the planet, some of us in several of the minor ones, and we're all multilingual. As a group, we, for all intents and purposes, literally know everything. We've spent years formulating our plans.”

“Our longevity,” said Sophia, “is not without other...draw-backs. The thing that keeps us alive and physically young also heals us, body and soul. We don't develop emotional and psychological scars and we have what amounts to eidetic memories. Those few times we've had to kill people have been very hard on us. Your souls develop scars, which make subsequent taking of sentient life less and less difficult. It is not so with us. For us, it's like the first time every time. We've had to develop a great deal of mental discipline to deal with it. A few of us...” She paused and it seemed to Juniper that the Princess was making an effort to suppress a violent emotional response. “...have gone crazy and committed suicide.”

“A few things,” said Eugene, “like Mary's situation, were a surprise, though.”

“We're pleased,” said Rapunzel, “that we were here to help with her. It wasn't an ideal solution to be sure, but we believe it will work in the long-run.”

“What about...?” said Mike, nodding to the mer-people.

“I was born in seventeen forty-seven,” said Philip.

“I was born,” said Syrena, “in what you call the seventh century BC.”

Mike's eyes went wide. “You're...more than two _thousand_ years old?!”

“Yes,” said Syrena evenly.

Mike gave a low whistle.

Mary giggled. Signe gave her daughter a look. “Sorry,” said Mary, “Philip told me a joke.”

“When?”

“Just now.”

“But he didn't say anything, honey.”

“Yes he did.”

“Did we see his mouth move?” said Signe sternly.

“Oh, he didn't say it with his mouth-voice. He said it with his mind-voice.”

“What?” said Mike.

“He said it in my head,” said Mary.

Mike blinked. “Oh, don't tell me you're telepathic, too.”

“What's that?” said Mary. She looked abruptly over at Philip and Syrena. “Oh,” she said, then looked back at her father. “Yeah. We are...I guess.”

Signe raised her fingers to her temple. “My brain's hurting again,” she moaned.

“Great,” said Mike. “I have a telepathic, immortal mermaid for a daughter.” He looked at Mary. “And I still love you more than life.” She smiled in return.

Rapunzel smiled. “Quite frankly, we're bored. Now, some of you have been rather silent during our little discussion. We're interested in hearing your opinions and input. Let's start with...you.” She gestured to Eilir.

Eilir raised her hands and signed, 'Sorry, your Majesty. It's...a lot to take in. Our fellows back in Mithrilwood will...well, they may have a hard time believing.'

'Oh, no, no need to apologize,' signed Rapunzel in return. She was fast... _very_ fast! 'I should have realized your...condition. We understand your position and...'

'Wait!' signed Eilir. 'Please slow down!'

'My apology.' Rapunzel's signing slowed, but was still faster than Juniper had seen Eilir do on her best day. 'We understand your position. We're also aware that it will take some time working with us...and we hope that you do...before we truly get to know one another as people.'

'I understand.'

'If you want, I believe Mistress Sophie might be able to heal your ears.'

Eilir blinked. Before the Change, she and Juniper had discussed various treatments, including the idea of cochlear implants. Those conversations had seldom progressed beyond the theoretical. There was considerable disagreement on whether that sort of solution would do anything. In any event, Juniper had nearly always been broke and had never had insurance. When the Change came, all of that had become thoroughly moot.

Eilir looked at Sophie. 'Can...can you do that?' Rapunzel translated for Sophie, who walked over and placed her hand on Eilir's forehead.

“Yes,” said Sophie, “I can rebuild your ears.”

It was Juniper's turn to blink. Had she heard that correctly? “You...can really do that?”

“Of course,” said Sophie.

Juniper looked at Eilir. 'Would...would you like that?' she signed.

Eilir frowned. Juniper could almost see the gears spinning behind her daughter's eyes. Deafness had been part of her world since birth. That kind of change would be just as dramatic as if she'd once had hearing and lost it. It would change everything in her world!

'I...I don't know,' Eilir signed. 'That would be amazing. I've dreamed about it for years...about what things sound like...that list is very long. But being deaf has...it's a part of me...of who I am. I'll have to think about it, but...I'm really not sure.'

'Do you remember,' signed Rapunzel, 'or see, what I said to Mary?'

Eilir shook her head. 'I didn't have a good enough view of your lips.'

Rapunzel smiled knowingly. 'I said who you are and what you are are two different things. While the one influences the other, never confuse the two.'

Eilir nodded. 'How long do I have to decide?'

'As long as you need.'

'Thank-you.'

'You're welcome.'

Rapunzel turned her attention to Will while Sophie again retreated. “Mister Hutton,” she nodded to Will.

“Well,” said Will, “I'm not sure what to think. I'm kind of only here because I'm Mike's second-in-command. But I _am_ wondering about those other animals...the ones that arrived in the...er...Bifrost stream, was it? What are they and how do they compare to horses?”

“Are you dissatisfied with equines?” said Eugene.

“I'm just open to other possibilities.”

“And well you should,” said Rapunzel. “With one notable exception, horses are really quite pathetic.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn't go that far.”

Sorshun said something in his language. His tone suggested that he was rather opinionated about it.

“He says,” said Eugene, “that he concurs and that horses are much better for eating than for anything else.”

'You can't eat horses!' signed Eilir.

'Yes, we can,' signed Rapunzel, 'and we do.'

“So what were those things that looked like birds?”

“You mean the running ones?” said Howl.

Will nodded.

“Terror and elephant birds.”

“Those are extinct.”

Howl raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“And those things that looked like...er...ceratopsians?”

“Protoceratops.”

Juniper noticed Signe twitching and Mike stiffening.

“The birds,” said Howl, “are faster, lighter, and more maneuverable than horses, but a lot more temperamental. Protoceratops are much easier to train and handle than horses. They're slower than horses, but stronger, tougher, and can eat just about anything. And those are just the tip of the iceberg. The Ingarians have animals and eggs of hundreds of Earth species and dozens of Ingarian ones held in magical stasis.”

“What,” said Eric, “are the flying ones and why do they look like pterodactyls?”

“They're called throndrakali,” said Howl, “and they're pterodactyls.”

“Of course they are,” said Signe flatly.

Eric chuckled. “Dude...that's just awesome! Forget the lothnellir...” He glanced at Sorshun and Leihara. “...no offense.” The two nodded and Eric returned his attention to Rapunzel. “But I want one of _those_!”

“That might be a problem,” said Howl. “Most throndrakal pilots are empathic to a certain extent. If you're not...well, you either have to be Chuck Norris, or crazy...or both.”

“Besides,” said Neil, “do you have any idea how much space they take up and how much they eat?”

Eric shook his head.

“It's a lot. That's something else to keep in mind.”

Rapunzel nodded to Astrid. “Hiril Astrid?”

Astrid started vibrating. “I...um...well...it's...” She broke down into a loud squee, accompanied by some decidedly girlish motions.

Rapunzel giggled. “I see.”

“Did we break her brain?” said Eugene.

Sophia giggled as well.

Rapunzel looked at Abbott Dmowski. “And you, your Eminence?”

Dmowski chuckled. “'Father' is fine, your Majesty,” he said. “I find all of this very intriguing. I still have to wonder, though, how do we know you won't try to, shall we say, assimilate us, too?”

“At this point, you don't. Each of you has started your respective governments for your own reasons. Since then, you've come to do things in your own way. We don't mean to interfere with that. Assimilating you would be a headache for a lot of people, as we would expect any resident of Corona to abide by our laws and customs, some of which may be at odds with some of yours. Every attempt to subdue the world has historically failed. Besides, global domination would be far too much work and involve far too many headaches. We're content to lead our own corner of it and set an example for others to hopefully follow. Otherwise, you all really have two choices. You can sit back and let us and Ingary leave you all in the dust. Or you can join with us, work with us, and be an integral part of founding the greatest civilization Earth or Ingary have ever known. We promise you won't regret it. And when I promise something, I never, ever, break that promise...ever.”

Juniper sensed the Queen meant every word of that.

“We realize that what we've presented here today,” said Eugene, “is overwhelming. We expect you'll have to think about it, possibly for some time, and that you'll be discussing it with all your people, which will take even more time. We still have yet to hold talks with CORA, Yakima, Pendleton, Warm Springs, and Boise. And, of course, we have a mess of a kingdom to clean up, which is going to take a lot of work on our part.”

Rapunzel looked toward the door, then back at those assembled. The sun was edging toward the horizon. “Is there anything further?”

“Don't take this the wrong way,” said Mike, “but are we meant to understand that you did all of this and are planning to do all of that...essentially because you're _bored_?”

“We're more than four hundred years old,” said Eugene. “Wouldn't _you_ be bored from sitting on your hands for the last fifty years?”

Mike didn't reply and Juniper wasn't surprised. The question was largely rhetorical. No one else said anything further.

“So noted,” said Sophia, writing on her pad.

“Wonderful!” said Rapunzel, suddenly looking a lot like a schoolgirl. “I'm very much looking forward to getting to know each one of you. This is going to be so much fun! Now, Mike, if we could arrange those quarters for Lonyali and her people, that would be great. The rest of us have tents, so we'll be fine.”

“Sure,” said Mike, “whatever floats your boat, I guess.”

“If you need help with security,” said Peter, “we Corvallans are at your disposal.”

“Thank-you,” said Eugene. “We appreciate that. While we haven't had trouble with potential escapees so far, we still don't want anyone trying to slink off in the night.”

“Oh,” said Mary, “could Philip and Syrena stay with me in the Pond? Only for a coupl'a days. I still have questions about bein' a mermaid. And we wanna know if I can go with them to the ocean. I really wanna see the ocean, Papa.”

“I guess they can,” said Mike, “but your mother and I still have to talk about letting you go...go away.” Juniper could tell the whole mermaid thing was still bothering him...not that she blamed him.

Rapunzel and company rose from their chairs and everyone shook hands...and paws...with everyone else, which took some time. “We'll touch bases with you in the morning,” said Eugene, “after we've broken camp and before we move north. We'll contact you with regular updates, including the new geopolitical divisions within Corona and which of us is in charge of each.”

“Thank-you,” said Mike, “for everything. It's still weird and it still scares the...well, it scares me. I hope to God you're better than Arminger.”

“Of that there's no doubt at all,” said Rapunzel. “You're a good man, Mike Havel. You'll see that we're not in the business of ruining good men. Feel free to watch us. In fact, we insist upon it...all of you.”

After most everyone had departed, Mike, Juniper, and Signe lingered. “Do you really believe all that?” said Mike.

“Which part?” said Signe.

“Mainly their promises.”

“Yes,” said Juniper.

“They still make me nervous.”

“Well,” said Signe, “they make me nervous too and I wasn't here to see what they did on the field.”

“So what are we going to do?” said Mike.

“Wait and see, I suppose,” said Juniper. “What else _can_ we do?”

“I guess it's not like we can stop them anyway.”

“And if they _do_ want regional peace, I'm not inclined to undermine it.”

“But do you think they'll leave us alone?” said Signe.

“Beats me,” said Mike. “But I guess it isn't getting any more normal, so we may as well go with it.” He shrugged before heading out toward the winery.


	5. The Strangest Morning Ever

Larsdalen  
March 11, CY 9, 2021 AD

Mike Havel stumbled down the stairs in his home. It was just past first light. He had a lot to do that day...or at least he thought he did. His honey-do list never seemed to shorten, no matter how many things he crossed off of it. God, he could do with some real coffee. There wasn't much in the Changed world that worked well enough to clear the mental cobwebs like the ones that held his consciousness prisoner. On that particular morning, the bleariness seemed much worse than usual. To top it off, he'd had the strangest dream involving mermaids and magic and all sorts of craziness. The smells of breakfast wafted up from the kitchen and that seemed to help a little.

He walked through the living room, meeting his daughter...damn, he _still_ couldn't keep them straight...halfway. “Hey, there pumpkin,” he said, tousling her blonde hair.

“Hi, Papa,” she replied.

He took her by the hand and led her toward the dining room. Where was her sister?

“Mornin', alskling,” he said as he stepped into the kitchen. “I had the weirdest dream.”

Signe looked up from what she was doing and glared at him.

“Ah, Christ,” muttered Mike, the tension stripping away a substantial portion of his morning drowsiness. “I just got up! How'd I f**k up already?”

“Papa,” said his daughter, “please stop talking like that. It's...un-lordly.”

Mike blinked at his daughter.

“She's right, you know,” said Signe. “And you know dam...darned well what you've done.”

Mike blinked at his wife. He really didn't feel like playing that game...not that he did any other time, but now less than usual. He looked at his daughter. “And where's your sister, anyway?” he asked, changing the subject...not that doing so would really solve anything.

The girl cocked an eyebrow at her father. Damn, but she was becoming more and more like her mother every day it seemed. “In th' pond? Where you put her?”

Everything from the previous two days flooded back into Mike's mind, hitting him like a wall of charging destriers. He remembered Portland's attack and the rapidly-degenerating battle...the charge of the Lothnellir...the fire...the ice...the screams of utter agony and unbridled terror rising from the enemy in the face of the Coronan onslaught...the shock and awe upon realizing that Portland had been defeated in twenty minutes...his own terror as he watched his daughter dying in his arms...his disbelief when she returned to him out of the river as a mermaid...the throdrakali carrying the Ingarian delegation...the Coronan announcement that they were the new rulers of Porland...and all the equally surprising revelations during that meeting. His head started spinning again.

He let out a string of curses. “Hell, that wasn't a dream was it?” he stated.

“Uh...no,” said Signe flatly. “And I think our daughter might be right about the language.”

“Are you still mad at me about Mary?” Signe just stared at him, boring holes into him with those gorgeous blue eyes of hers. “Look, I want to say I'm sorry, but...well, I'm not. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“Oh, you did the right thing,” said Signe. “But I'm still mad at you.”

“What? That doesn't make any sense!”

“So?” Signe thrust a plate of eggs and bacon at him. He took it and began to eat, still meeting his wife's eyes.

“It's a good thing I love you, alskling,” he said at last.

“I guess,” she replied, softening. She took a few steps toward the door, then grabbed him and kissed him mid-chew. “Don't think I'm not still mad at you, though.” She stepped over and grabbed a biscuit. “Catch,” she said as she tossed it to him. He caught it nicely.

“I think I'll go see how Mary's doing.” He looked down at Ritva. “Ritva, honey, you should eat your breakfast. Then maybe if your mother lets you, you can join us down at the pond, okay?”

Ritva nodded. Mike tousled her hair and walked out of the room. He grabbed a coat and threw it on before walking outside. Yes, he thought, life is going to get _very_ weird indeed.


	6. Not the Headlamp of an Oncoming Train

Portland  
March 15, CY 9, 2021 AD

Gerald Westenra lay in his cell. There really wasn't anything else he could do, what with two broken legs. The warden still fed him and his fellow inmates, if one could call them that, moldy bread—which was better than nothing. He supposed he should be grateful for that, especially for its penicillin content. But it was difficult to be grateful for anything lying there in his own filth, infected sores and wounds festering all over his body. They should just let him die...or maybe that was part of the torture.

His thoughts were interrupted by a commotion at the end of the hallway. He couldn't see anything. That area was not within his line of sight, there was no light, and he was missing an eye. He could make out two men, probably the guards, putting on the usual bravado. Then a woman's voice. Gerald frowned. It sounded...familiar. She was insistent, whoever she was.

Then the men began to yell in fright and, it sounded like...pain? What the devil was happening out there? He had a feeling he would find out soon enough. Whatever it was, it couldn't possibly be any worse than what he was enduring. Two sets of footfalls sounded at the end of the hall and then stopped, probably just inside the door.

“Listen up, people,” said the woman. Her voice DID sound familiar...but from where? He recognized her New Zealand accent, being a Kiwi himself, but there was more than that. “In case you haven't heard, Norman Arminger has been overthrown. The territory formerly called the Protectorate is under new management and will henceforth be known as the Kingdom of Corona. By royal decree, all dungeons are hereby permanently closed. Therefore, by order of their Majesties, every dungeon shall be emptied immediately. Each prisoner shall receive, in this order, a bath, new clothing, medical attention, real food, and a review of their case.”

Gerald frowned. Then a sudden realization hit him like a brick. He _did_ know that voice. It couldn't be. That was impossible...wasn't it?

“All seventy-three of you will be escorted upstairs cell by cell, thence to an area behind the building where you will receive your bath and clothing. What clothing you wear now will be burned. You will then be escorted to the former Wells Fargo Building where you will be given food and medical attention. From there, you will be taken before their Majesties to stand trial. It is their opinion that most, if not all of you, are guilty of very little. Otherwise, you can be assured that, pursuant to Coronan philosophy and law, the punishment shall fit the crime.

“Please do not try to escape. I guarantee that any such attempts will be unsuccessful. I should also warn you all that you'll come face-to-face with beings the likes of which you've never seen. They're...a little intimidating to say the least. But don't worry, they know what they're doing.”

A glimmer of hope rose up inside Gerald. He felt silly, but he decided to risk calling out anyway. “Hayley?” he croaked. He cleared his throat and spoke again, more loudly. “Hayley, is that you?”

He heard rapid footsteps approach. They were almost running. Whoever owned them stopped in front of his cell. The figure, visible as a shadow within shadow, moved slightly. “Karl?” the woman called. “Would you come shed some light over here, please?”

Gerald heard more footsteps, long, confident strides. Then another shadow, presumably belonging to Karl, stopped beside the first. Suddenly, a grapefruit-sized ball of fire appeared near the ceiling just inside the cell door. He jumped a little. He stared at the fire for a few moments before looking downward. Then his gaze settled on two people, clad in what looked like enameled plate armor, on the other side of the bars. The one on the right was a man who looked to be in his twenties. The woman on the left...gasped first.

“Daddy?!” she shrieked.

“Hayley!”

Hayley glanced at her companion. “Karl...” Gerald raised his eyebrow and stiffened as the door's lock began to glow...first red, then orange, then yellow until the whole thing melted. Karl grabbed the still-red-hot metal and jerked the door open, small gobbets of still-molten steel flying away to land on the floor. Hayley rushed into the cell and knelt down next to her father.

“Oh, Daddy...what did they do to you?”

“His legs are broken,” said Karl, “and he has some internal injuries.”

How did he know that? Gerald started to talk, but Hayley interrupted him. “No, don't try to talk. We'll have plenty of time for that later.”

“I'm dying, dear,” he said.

“Rubbish. We'll get you all fixed up.”

Fixed up? Well, that certainly wasn't a Kiwi-ism. Where had she been for the last decade? “No, Hayley,” said Gerald, his voice still raw. “You can't...”

“We don't say 'can't,' Daddy.” She crouched down, placed her arms around her father and heaved him off the floor. It didn't seem to take much effort. Either she'd grown a lot stronger or he'd lost a lot of weight...or both. He cringed through the pain.

“Hayley,” he said through clenched teeth, “you...you don't have to do this.”

“The hell I don't. My orders are to move every person out of here and that's exactly what I'm going to do. No worries, though. We have powerful friends, friends who can do things you wouldn't believe.”

Gerald glanced at Karl.

“Yes, like him,” said Hayley. “It's a long story.” Karl stepped over and took him from the other side so that his daughter and her companion supported his whole weight. “Trust me,” she said as they dragged him out of the cell, “you'll be okay. I promise.”

He hoped she was right. His legs hurt where the bones were broken and despite Hayley's and Karl's best efforts, moving him still caused far more pain than he'd have expected.

“You're a sight for sore eyes,” he said as they neared the end of the corridor.

“I could say the same,” said Hayley.

“I might say the armor suits you, but...” He broke off with a cough.

“Don't try to talk until we get some water in you, Daddy. Then we'll have all the time in the world to catch up.”

Something told him that, despite evidence to the contrary, she was right. The pair carried him out the door and up the stairs. He was vaguely aware of the distinct smell of freshly-burned wood. They rounded the corner into a larger corridor. He tried to hold his head up, but weeks of malnourishment and abuse were quickly taking a toll on him. They abruptly came to a halt. He looked up to see an enormous, furry animal completely filling the hallway.  
It was hard to see the whole thing, but its massive head looked a little like a cross between a sheep and a velociraptor, but with fur in colors of greens and browns. It had huge legs and forearms the size of a man's leg. It was bent over at what looked like a forty-five-degree angle, but that could have been from the limitations of space. For all he knew, it usually stood straight upright. His body went rigid.

“It's okay, Daddy,” said Hayley, “she's on our side.”

Gerald looked up at his daughter. “Sh...she?”

“Yeh. Daddy, I'd like you to meet Llerhalo, my kairina...sister-in-arms is the closest English translation. Ya-Llerhalo, this is my father.”

“What?” said Gerald.

“I'll tell you later.” She looked at the animal she called Llehalo. “Please take care of him, okay?”

The animal made some complicated-sounding noises, then reached out with its...her, Gerald reminded himself...large fore-arms and lifted him like a rag-doll, but gently. The resulting shifting sent new spasms of pain shooting through his legs. He winced and suppressed a gasp, tears coming to his eyes.

“Be careful with him, please?” said Hayley to Llerhalo. “Make sure they know his legs are broken.” Then she looked back at her father. “I'll come see you later. My orders are to finish emptying the cells in that infernal dungeon and make sure all those people are taken care of. We still have a lot of work to do, even after that. I'll be off-duty by nightfall, I think.” Hayley smiled at her father, kissed him on the forehead, then she and Karl turned and trotted back down the hall to the dungeon.

The animal Hayley called Llerhalo backed down the hall and soon they emerged into open air. A light drizzle kept everything wet. Llerhalo laid Gerald down onto the ground, then made some noises to some people nearby before returning to the building.

A man bent down with a knife. “I hope you're not attached to these,” he said as he cut Gerald's clothes off of him. He didn't mind at all, really, but said nothing. It actually felt rather good, the immodesty notwithstanding.

Another woman walked over, knelt down, placed a hand on his forehead, and muttered something. 

After a few seconds, his pain receded. That was curious, he thought, though not entirely unwelcomed. He took a few moments to look at his surroundings. He noticed his clothing was already on fire and burning vigorously with a bright, smokeless flame. The maybe twenty or so people, a few of which he recognized as Protectorate soldiers, seemed to be very efficient and well-organized.

A pair of women picked him up and carefully placed him into a large claw-foot tub. He could clearly see steam rising from its surface, but there was no sign of a fire beneath it. Did they heat the water elsewhere, or was it more of whatever Karl had done to melt the lock on that cell? The warm water felt good, even as it stung and burned in his open wounds. The same two people reached in and scrubbed him down, a bit roughly he thought. Maybe he needed it, despite the pain whenever they came across one of the many breaks in his skin. They even washed his hair.

When they finally pulled him out—and it couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes—there seemed to be a line forming already. They dried him off, slipped a T-tunic over his head, then laid him on a stretcher under a blanket and carried him down the street to what he presumed was the Wells Fargo Building.

Once inside the lobby, they transferred him to a cot and left. The room felt unusually warm, though he wasn't sure if that was an illusion from the contrast with all those weeks of cold and damp. There weren't yet enough people in the room to warm it from sheer body heat, nor were there any visible fires or ember pots. The cot wasn't entirely comfortable, but still worlds better than the dungeon floor. And he was clean, relatively warm, in very little pain, he'd been promised food and medical treatment, and above all, he'd been reunited with his daughter who'd been in Wales at the time of the Change and presumed dead. He wasn't about to complain.

A minute later, a man walked over and handed him a large bowl of soup. It smelled wonderful. It was mostly broth, but with bits of fish and some sort of root vegetables. It tasted even better than it smelled. He detected hints of several herbs, including garlic, turmeric, and ginger, as well as several other flavors he couldn't identify. He forced himself to slow down and slurp it patiently, knowing the risks of over-feeding a chronically empty stomach.  
His pain was mostly gone, enough of it remaining to remind him that he was broken. From time to time, he tried to move, but each time, someone scurried over and told him to stop. Sometimes that person didn't speak English, though they somehow managed to communicate their intent anyway.

More and more people arrived, mostly under their own power, over the ensuing two hours. Those people were given soup and shown a cot. It looked to Gerald like they were all expected to stay the night. Whoever the Coronans were, they seemed equally efficient with each part of whatever operation they were conducting.

He finished his soup and placed the bowl on the floor next to him. He was beginning to feel pretty good and had to remind himself not to move. He could fall asleep right now. He almost did.

He was distracted by a set of footsteps approaching. He opened his eyes just in time to see his daughter kneel down next to him. She'd shed her armor and was dressed in a comfortable-looking garment that looked vaguely Oriental and of a green-brown woolen fabric. Her dirty-blonde hair was braided on both sides above her ears and tied above her occipital lobe. He smiled.

She hugged him firmly, but gently. “We finished early, so their Majesties let me off. How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Fine...I guess. I could have died a happy man, you know...after I saw you down there.”

“Oh, no you don't. I am _not_ explaining that to your grandson.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I have a grandson?”

“You will in about seven months.”

He raised an eyebrow, glanced down at her midsection, then back at her face. “How do you know it's a boy? Ultrasounds don't work anymore, remember?”

Hayley's smile broadened. “Like I said, I have powerful friends.”

“You're looking good, Hayley...really good,” said Gerald with a smile. It did his heart worlds of good to see that his little girl was doing so well.

Hayley smiled, then shrugged. “Close to a decade of combat training will do that to a girl.” At his raised eyebrow she added, “and, no, I'm not vegan anymore...haven't been for nearly a decade.” Gerald wasn't really surprised. It had been difficult enough to eat enough good lean protein on a vegan diet even before the Change. Since then...well, one had to eat whatever was available and he'd known at least one other former vegan who'd admitted that veganism was a luxury.

It was then that Gerald noticed someone hovering over Hayley's shoulder. He looked up and Hayley followed his gaze. A man stood behind her, dressed in a similar fashion. Gerald recognized him as Karl.

“You've met Karl, haven't you?” she said.

Gerald extended his hand and Karl took it. He had a firm handshake...and his skin felt much warmer than it should have been. “Fever?” he said.

Karl smiled. “We get that a lot,” he said.

“We?” said Gerald. Karl just continued to smile. Gerald returned his attention to his daughter. “Arnaud's here, I take it?”

Hayley's face fell. “No, Dad. He...well, we don't know what happened to him. Believe me, I agonized over him for _years_. It's a long story and part of an even longer one. Eventually, I had to just...let him go...ya know?”  
He did know. He'd completely lost track of the number of versions of that story he'd heard. Nearly everyone who'd lived through the Change had either lost a loved one, or had lost track of one. He nodded. “So...if you don't mind my asking, who's the father of my apparently forthcoming grandson?”

“I am,” said Karl.

Hayley glanced at him. “Yeah, if Arnaud's still alive, and if I ever see him again, it'll be quite awkward...even if he's let go of me, too.”

“Are you sure it's a good idea to talk about him in front of...him?” Gerald nodded to Karl.

“We've agreed,” said Karl, “to discuss our formers with each other, so long as we're respectful and positive, and that we never mention anything that happened in the bedroom.”

Gerald squirmed noticeably. He really did _not_ want to know if his daughter had been a virgin before marrying Karl...and he rather hoped they _were_ married.

“I'm a twice-widower,” said Karl. He seemed to know what Gerald was thinking.

Gerald felt his heart sink. “My condolences.”

Karl nodded gracefully. “It was a long time ago. The pain heals.”

Hayley looked at her father. “What about Mum? And Sophie and Isaac?”

Gerald sighed. “I don't know. I only had the luxury of doing the most cursory of exploration after the Change. All the large cities in New Zealand...Aukland, Wellington, Christchurch...no sign of life in any of them. I never got to land, so I still don't know if any of them made it out before...before the worst.”

Hayley hugged her father as tightly as she dared. “I'm sorry, Daddy...for everything.”

“No, honey, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

They stayed that way for a few minutes before Hayley drew back.

“Sir,” continued Karl, “I'd like to ask retroactive permission to marry your daughter.”

Gerald considered that for a few moments. “Retroactive?” Hayley blushed. “Are you two...legally wed?”

“We are,” said Karl.

“I gather it's a bit late to say, 'no.'”

“Two years late, Daddy,” said Hayley.

Gerald sighed. “Then I give my blessing. But if you break her heart...”

Karl nodded. “A daughter is very precious, absolutely.” The man seemed to know something about that.

“Ah, who am I kidding? I'm a cripple. A two-year old could beat me.”

“Leave that to us.”

“We won't lie to you, Daddy,” said Hayley, changing the subject. “You're in very bad shape...worse than you realize. You'll probably be the last to receive treatment. It'll...disturb the others.”

Gerald suddenly had a very bad feeling.

Hayley held up her right hand and flexed her fingers. “Losing digits hurts like hell. But growing them back hurts at least twice as much.”

They were interrupted by a bare-footed woman in a brick-red tunic. Gerald might have taken the time to blazon the arms prominently embroidered on it in yellow. Hayley stood up and bowed. “Your Majesty,” she said.

Karl nodded. “Grandmother,” he said.

Gerald forgot all about his broken body as his eyebrows shot up. Majesty? Grandmother?

The woman, the Queen, gave Karl and Hayley each a hug before kneeling down next to Gerald. “You must be Hayley's father,” she said as she extended a hand. He took it and noticed it was a little warmer even than Karl's.

Gerald nodded. “Y...yes, your Majesty.” He wasn't sure if she was a proper Queen—one whose parents, grandparents, and so forth had been Royalty as well—but he was willing to go along with it.

“She's told us quite a bit about you. So tell me, how is it you came to be here? New Zealand's not exactly next door.”

Gerald supposed there were any number of plausible explanations. Still, it was a fair question and one he didn't mind answering, especially since his daughter hadn't heard the story yet either. There wasn't much to it, really. He'd been on a business trip to Tasmania when the Change had occurred.

“Shift,” said Hayley.

“What?”

“We'll fill you in on that later,” said the Queen. “Please continue.”

He'd been on a long-distance cell call with his daughter, who'd been in Wales at the time. The phenomenon had reached her first and the signal had dropped. From some of the background noises, he'd feared the worst. He hadn't had much time to mourn, however, for the rest of the world had followed shortly.

He'd lost contact with the rest of the family in Christchurch. All his efforts to find them had been derailed. He'd wound up an officer in the Tasmanian navy, thanks to a previous tour of duty in the New Zealand navy shortly after finishing his secondary schooling. He'd been First Lieutenant on the ship that had arrived in Portland some weeks before, whereupon Arminger had imprisoned the lot of them, torture and all, for no discernible reason.  
The Queen sighed in aggravation. “Sometimes I'm inclined to think that one death really isn't good enough for certain people.” She shook her head. “At the moment, I'm inclined to pardon you for whatever it was Arminger...” She practically growled the name. “...thinks you did.” She glanced out at the room. “And I suspect many of the others here arrived with you and are likewise guilty of absolutely nothing. We'll still hold the hearings, though. From an administrative standpoint, it all still needs to be official.”

Gerald nodded. “Thank-you.”

The Queen then turned to Karl. “Karl, would you be a dear and make a note for me?” He pulled a pencil and a small pad from a pocket. “Remind me to ask Ingary to let us borrow the Bifrost-Junior once they've moved it up from Kupreanof.” Karl scribbled as the Queen spoke.

She turned back to Gerald. “I have an idea. Once the Ingarians have moved into their new land...long story...a few of us will accompany you via Bifrost to seek the rest of your family. It'll have to wait until, oh, probably October or November.”

She stood up and turned to the room. “Listen up, people,” she said loudly, “tomorrow morning, immediately after breakfast and an hour after sunrise, we will summon you one by one. We will begin with those whose bodies have been repaired. You will come before myself and the King in our throne room, where we will hear your cases. We will then pass judgment pursuant to Coronan Law. This will likely take all day, and may pass into two. While we're efficient, there are a lot of you and many still require medical treatment. In the meantime, I remind you that you are all still prisoners. A couple of you have already tried to escape, despite being told not to do so. That does not speak well of you.”

She turned back to Gerald and Hayley. “Gerald, you should know that your procedure will be...unpleasant. That's unfortunate, but magic doesn't work the way we think it should. Hayley, your primary responsibility will be to look after your father. Please remain with him, especially during the healing, and then escort him to us when he feels up to it. Make sure he remains fed and make sure he receives extra protein. Gerald, we're going to ask you to drink fresh squirrel blood and eat their raw organs. Don't worry, I've done it myself and I can tell you that it sounds more disgusting than it actually is. You'll need it.”

Gerald grimaced. She couldn't be serious...could she? “Thank-you...I think...your Majesty.”

The Queen drew closer and lowered her voice. “Since you're family, you may, when in private, address me as Rapunzel.”

Gerald raised an eyebrow. “As in, Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair?” He wasn't sure why he'd said that, and it immediately struck him as a bit too informal.

“The same,” said Rapunzel. “We'll fill you in on that later, as well. In the meantime, you should rest. Tomorrow will be a long day for all of us.” She rose again and strode to the center of the room. Karl nodded and followed. “That goes for the rest of you,” she said aloud. “Get some rest. We'll see you in the morning.” With that, she left through the front door and into the diminishing daylight.

* * *

True to their word, Hayley spent the night on a futon next to her father. She helped him with his soup all the next day as he watched people taken one by one from the building. Their cots—which were really folding patio furniture—and blankets were efficiently removed as well.

Hayley adjusted Gerald's cot-chair so that he was in a semi-sitting position. It made eating and talking more comfortable and he felt his morale improve. They shared stories about everything that had happened over the previous ten years. Gerald's stories were overall unremarkable, though Hayley seemed very interested in them.

Her stories, however, strained credulity almost from the very beginning and in ways that weren't confined just to the Change event itself. Two of her friends from the Celtic Woman group were magae... _and_ extraterrestrials...and another was a mermaid! She'd spent the following several years with them and with a man she called Howl whom she said was the most powerful human mage since Merlin. She'd met up with Karl, Rapunzel, and their whole family a few years before and they apparently had pyrokinesis! Her stories--complete with ocean storms, pirates, cannibals, magic, death, hardship—sounded like something out of “Lord of the Rings.” He envied her to a point, though he knew full well that while adventure was fun to read—and watch back when movies and television had worked—it was quite another to live it.

Also true to their word, Gerald's medical procedure—and he hesitated to call it “medical”--was its own kind of torture. Two women and a man knelt down beside him and placed their hands on his forehead, arms, and torso while Hayley held his hand. He could see in her grim expression that she knew what was coming.

All at once, he was unable to move or vocalize. Then the pain began. Every one of his sores burned and itched terribly for what felt like a full twenty minutes...then that pain was gone. Then it was replaced by more pain deep inside of his body. His insides hurt worse than that bout of dysentery he'd fought during the first Change year. Then that subsided as suddenly as it had begun.

What came next was even worse. Both of his legs erupted in agony, as sharp pain pricked at their cores. It felt like his legs were being broken all over again, but from the inside out. He felt them move, as if on their own accord, which hurt even more. He passed out.

When he regained consciousness, the pain in his legs had gone, but only to be replaced by a searing pain in his left eye. It radiated out into the part of his skull surrounding it. Every now and again, one of the people kneeling beside him squirted some water into the socket, which only added to the pain. After a few more minutes, he passed out again.

When he revived, all the pain was gone. He blinked. His binocular vision had returned. But that was impossible. That Arminger bastard had put his eye out and eyes never grew back. He couldn't explain it. He looked up at his daughter, who smiled at him, her face heavily tear-streaked. She didn't say anything, just threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

“What,” he stammered, “what _was_ that?”

Hayley drew back. “Magic.”

“There's no such thing,” he began, but then trailed off as he realized that there apparently was, in fact, such a thing as magic.

“I told you,” she said, “that you might not believe it.”

“You also told me it would hurt,” he croaked. She handed him some water and he drank greedily. “That was somewhat of an understatement.”

“That was the hardest thing I've ever done,” said Hayley.

Gerald reached up and wiped the remains of the tears from her face. “Looks like.” He looked out at the room. “I'm the only one left?”

Hayley nodded. “We're efficient,” she said. “People couldn't wait to get out of here. There's a certain...tension...in the air when healers are doing that kind of repair work. It makes people very uncomfortable. Part of it's what I guess you might call magical reverberation. Don't worry, I don't understand it either. How are you feeling?”

“Like I've been run over by a rhinoceros?” They both chuckled. “But otherwise, fine...hungry, though.”

Hayley stood up, walked across the room and returned with a bowl of soup. “This is the last of it,” she said, “and I'm sorry it's cold now.”

Gerald noticed that the air in the room had cooled considerably, too. He ate his soup gratefully and much more quickly than he had when he'd been given his first bowl of it. He didn't mind it being cold. People had become much less prone to complaining about the quality of food since the Change. Cold or not, it was still delicious.

When he'd finished, Hayley handed him a mug of cold beverage. “This would have been better warm, too, but you should drink it all the same.”

He took it and sipped. “What is it?”

“It's an infusion of Oregon grape root, western red cedar, Echinacea root, ginger root and yarrow. It'll help you.”

Gerald continued to drink. When he'd finished, Hayley stacked the cup in the bowl and pushed them aside. “Can you stand, Daddy?”

He pulled the blanket aside. His clothes were sweaty and the dampness pricked at his skin. He sat up. So far, so good. When he tried to stand, his legs buckled. Hayley caught him.

“I'm afraid there wasn't much we could do about muscle atrophy,” said Hayley. “That'll improve in time.” She lowered herself into a squatting position, put one of his arms around her shoulders, and lifted him from the chair. He was impressed with her strength. Or maybe he'd just lost too much weight in that dungeon...or both.

Together, they hobbled across the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the remaining two people bustle over to quickly clean up his bed area. Hayley turned aside and said something in a language he didn't know. The other two replied as Hayley pushed the door open.

Cold, damp air met them. It was solidly overcast and Gerald couldn't be sure what time of day it was, though he figured it had to be late afternoon. Two soldiers came up the steps toward them. One of them wore what he identified as typical Protectorate attire: bowl-shaped, slightly conical helm with nose guard, chain-maille hauberk, cross-bow slung on his back, short sword at his waist, and pole-arm in hand. The other wore something entirely different: plate-maille of a dull grey metal, possibly aluminum, German-style helm, surcoat of red and purple with a yellow sun, and at his side a...frying pan? The Protectorate man, while apparently armed better than the other, seemed tense and continued to eye the other man nervously.

“We're here to take you before their Majesties,” said the Protectorate man.

It seemed to Gerald that it was all overkill seeing as how he himself could barely stand on his own.

“That's okay,” said Hayley, “I can handle it.”

“Our orders are,” began the Protectorate man. He was interrupted when the other man nudged him with an armored elbow. “I mean, yes, your Excellency.”

What had happened that had the Protectorate soldiers cowed like that? Hayley continued to help her father down the stairs, the other two soldiers falling in behind them. People on the streets stopped and stared. Hayley waved good-naturedly with her free hand and smiled.

“Excellency?” said Gerald.

“I _am_ married to an Earl, you know. That makes me a Countess.”

“Tell me,” said Gerald, “are these titles...assumed? I mean, so many people just up and declared themselves to be kings or whatever after the Change. That Arminger bastard, for instance.”

“Oh, they're real,” said Hayley. “Rapunzel's parents were actual King and Queen of Corona...small kingdom sandwiched between Germany and Poland. Well, it's actually more complicated than that, but the upshot is that they're actual royalty. Karl's their great-grandson. We've sort of re-invented the title system to a point based on generational removal.”

Gerald stiffened. “Great-grandson?” Rapunzel could easily have had small children, but there was no way she was even remotely old enough to have grandchildren, let alone great-grandchildren.

“Long story,” said Hayley. “We'll tell you later.”

Before long, the four of them ascended the steps of what had been the Portland Library. The Protectorate banners—black with a red, lidless eye—had been removed and Gerald noticed scorch marks on the side of the building. He suddenly had a bad feeling. Firstly, the last time he'd ascended those steps, things had gone terribly wrong. Secondly, whoever could and would torch banners well enough to scorch the building without setting it on fire.... With what sort of people had his daughter become involved?

Together, they staggered through the front door, through a lobby, then into the throne room. Two large banners hung from the ceiling. One was purple with a yellow sun and the other was red with a flaming flower and three smaller suns, all in yellow. He recognized Rapunzel sitting beneath the red banner. He guessed that the man sitting beneath the purple banner was the King.

Motion to his right drew his attention. He turned his head to see over a dozen people rise to their feet and salute him. He smiled as he recognized them as fellow Tasmanians. He saluted in return before continuing to the front of the room.

A woman bustled out, set a three-legged stool on the floor and then retreated. Hayley helped her father sit down before kneeling next to him. Both of the Royals were smiling, as though they were thoroughly enjoying themselves, and not in the sadistic way the Armingers had.

“Bailiff,” said the King, “with what crime is this man...” He inclined his head toward Gerald.

“Gerald Westenra,” said Hayley.

“...charged?” said the King.

The bailiff looked at the parchment he was holding. “Sedition and treason, your Majesty,” he said.

“Is that all it says?” said the King.

“Yes, your Majesty. As with the others, the records are...not that specific, I'm afraid.”

The King made a hrmphing sound, then turned to Gerald. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Gerald repeated the story he'd told Rapunzel the previous day, beginning with their arrival in Portland and ending with his release.

“I see,” said the King.

“Who here,” said the Queen, “can corroborate this man's testimony?”

Gerald turned to see all his fellows raise their hands. He wasn't surprised. Despite some inevitable variations, mainly in interpretations of motives, or certain observations, their stories were likely exactly the same as his own. They'd all been taken prisoner by Protectorate soldiers and summarily thrown in jail. It had been as simple as that. As far as he could tell, Arminger had declared them enemies of the state and that had been that.

“You speak the truth,” said Rapunzel.

“It is our judgment,” said the King, “that you are guilty of no crime whatsoever. Your record is hereby expunged. Furthermore, we are minded to offer you a choice, and one we have already offered your fellows. We mean to form a navy. Its function will be similar to that of the erstwhile United States Coast Guard, with a few differences. If you'd like, you may join it. Your duties would be discussed at a later date, though they're likely to be commensurate with your experience. If you'd rather not, then we will return you to Tasmania, either via Bifrost, to which we hope to have access in the fall, or aboard the ship on which you arrived.”

“You don't need to decide now,” said Rapunzel. “You may discuss it with your fellows first if you wish.”

“If you choose the latter,” said the King, “we recommend waiting until June. We have it on good authority that crossing the Columbia Bar can be treacherous at times. The water level in the Columbia should still be high enough then and there's a greater likelihood of an offshore flow later in the season as the Jet Stream shifts.”

“That's...awfully generous of you, your Majesties,” said Gerald. “You're far too kind.” He meant every word if it, legal matters notwithstanding.

The King inclined his head. “We insist that there be true justice in Corona,” he said.

“Now,” said Rapunzel, “we understand that things will be...a little less straightforward for you than for your men. You have responsibilities to them and to those who sent you on your assignment. You have family in New Zealand you need to find. You also have family here who happens to be married to my family. Pursuant to our offer, you're otherwise free to go. We can make housing arrangements for you and the rest of your crew for the foreseeable future. We can discuss those details later.”

Hayley helped her father to his feet. They bowed and retreated to a pair of chairs near the other Tasmanians.

The King looked to the bailiff. “Is there anything else?”

The man consulted a small pad of paper. “No, your Majesty...not today.”

The Royals rose, followed shortly by the rest of those assembled. “There being no further business,” said another man, “thus ends the court of Rapunzel and Eugene, Co-Sovereigns of Corona!”

Gerald sighed. He wasn't sure just what sort of sigh it was. He did, however, feel a strange mixture of relief, satisfaction, curiosity, and joy. Sure, he still had some decisions to make...and a whole host of unanswered questions. He suspected that many of them would have to wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, I exaggerated...the song Lonyali sings IS "Touch the Sky" in Ingarian. I decided it's the anthem of the Ingarian Air Force. (Getting it to scan halfway-decently to the tune was a challenge. I had to break a couple of the grammatical rules on the grounds that songs and poetry don't always follow those rules anyway.)
> 
> Fayon-asstruma means 'Storm-wing.'
> 
> *****
> 
> The following excerpt is provided by Chief Xenobiologist Master Neil Perry, as translated and adapted from surviving Ingarian records:
> 
> The animals called throndrakali are the result of many centuries of selective breeding. The original animal that gave rise to the modern throndrakali was a hybrid between the animal known by Earth paleontologists as Quetzalcoatlus northropii and a somewhat smaller Ingarian species. So great was the hybrid vigor that the first eggs had to be surgically delivered from the mother. Some of the crossing and back-crossing involved reintroduction of fresh Earth specimens into the bloodline. That procedure abruptly stopped in 5000 BE (Before Exodus) for unknown reasons. Most other recorded importations of species now extinct on Earth also stopped at that time. (This is discussed in greater depth elsewhere.)
> 
> Throndrakali are physically intermediate between the two animals, with some traits amplified, presumably by hybrid vigor. Females are noticably larger than males. Wingspan is between 19 and 25 meters. Length is between 30 and 40 meters. The overall appearance of the animal is generally similar to Q. northropii, with some deviation related to influence by the Ingarian species, as noted:  
> Beak is less pointed and more flattened, with small teeth set in the anterior halves of both upper and lower jaws.  
> The crest is quite pronounced as it is in the Ingarian species. This houses the chambers containing fluids responsbible for the animal's incendiaries (This is similar to napalm and is discussed in a separate treatment dedicated to it.). The crests are often colorful and vary widely between individuals.  
> Neck vertebrae are more numerous than in Q. northropii, affording it greater flexibility.  
> Hind legs are hinged in two places as they are in the Ingarian species, facilitating land-based flight.  
> Animals have a long tail with a knobby, fin-like structure similar to that found in rhamphorincus.  
> The entire surface of each animal, with the exception of beak, claws, and tail knob, are covered with feather-like structures called foeliri. Structurally, they superficially resemble Terran club-mosses, though the protein matrix is closer to that of mammal hair, but mostly hollow like bird feathers. They provide ultra-lightweight thermal insulation. As in birds, throndrakali secrete light oils that help protect their foeliri from excessive waterlogging in wet weather, a trait they inherit from the Ingarian species.
> 
> Throndrakali are endothermic, requiring a commensurate amount of food. For years, the animals, when not on active duty, were kept in magical stasis to reduce the demand on the already-limited food supply. This changed when Ingarians moved from Kupreanov Island to the southern Willamette Valley and food became far more plentiful.  
> Development generally follows that of avian animals. Eggs are a full meter long, half a meter in diameter, elliptical, and nearly black. At hatching, young are covered with a white fuzz superficially similar to the down shed by cottonwood trees (Populus sp.). For their first six months, hatchlings feed on half-digested food regurgitated by both parents, during which time they quadruple in size, attaining wingspans of 4-6 meters by the end of their first year, at which time they are capable of flight and can begin training. Bonding with a pilot sometimes takes place in the ninth month, but more usually closer to the twelfth month, depending on the individuals involved.
> 
> Throndrakali are highly intelligent. While there is some disagreement on exactly how intelligent, it is a foregone conclusion that they are far more so than horses, whales, or pigs, and may even be sub-sentient. Even so, they tend to be highly temperamental and training is often lengthy and dangerous and most experts agree that it is only possible with empaths. Given this limitation, the pool of potential pilots is small.


End file.
